48 images Created 2 Jul 2022
Nothing is Straight
The subject of this project is the house where I grew up. My parents still live there and have done so since the 1960s. The house itself was built in 1798 by Sands Fish, one of my many relatives who lived in the Mystic area. Over the course of the house’s existence it has been moved three times, had the porch blown off by the 1938 hurricane, and been the focal point of generations of my mother’s family. Originally the house was part of a dairy farm which provided milk for the town. My grandfather used to speak of delivering milk to people’s houses before going to school.
After my great great grandfather died, the house was not occupied and fell in to disrepair. That was when by parents bought it. It needed a lot of work and my dad recalls being told they were insane to have bought the house - nothing is straight. The roof needed to be replaced. The fireplace was falling apart. The relatives had come and taken most the good antiques leaving a broken down shell. They persisted. The house slowly was transferred into what it is today.
Growing up in the house there some things which you had to get used to. You had to be careful walking through doorways as certain ones were very low and you would hit your heard. People were smaller in the past. As you move from the first floor to the second to the attic the quality of the floor boards decreases and they become more and more creaky. There is little to no heat up stairs. It was not uncommon to have your hair freeze after taking a shower in the winter. You could hear the clanging of the old radiators in the middle the night as the heating system struggled to get hot water up to the second floor. If that did not convince you house was haunted the scratching of mice in the walls would.
All of this is to say there is a lot of interesting things to photograph in this house. There are wonderful textures in the walls, floors, and ceilings. Overtime, as a way to manage her anxieties my mother has turned the house into a bit of a museum. Everything has its place. All extra things have been removed. The second floor and the attic are basically storage areas now since my parents have moved down stairs as their mobility has decreased.
I have seen other projects were photographers have returned to or examined their parent’s homes or workshops, often after they were dead. Perhaps this is why I have hesitated to turn the lens to this subject. Both my parents are still alive and I like it that way. I found making these images uncomfortable and I could not photograph if my parents were home. Many of my past projects have examined things which are fading. My experiences growing up in this house have provided me with an anchor for my life. A sense of being grounded. I do not like to think this may be changing and that they may fade.
After my great great grandfather died, the house was not occupied and fell in to disrepair. That was when by parents bought it. It needed a lot of work and my dad recalls being told they were insane to have bought the house - nothing is straight. The roof needed to be replaced. The fireplace was falling apart. The relatives had come and taken most the good antiques leaving a broken down shell. They persisted. The house slowly was transferred into what it is today.
Growing up in the house there some things which you had to get used to. You had to be careful walking through doorways as certain ones were very low and you would hit your heard. People were smaller in the past. As you move from the first floor to the second to the attic the quality of the floor boards decreases and they become more and more creaky. There is little to no heat up stairs. It was not uncommon to have your hair freeze after taking a shower in the winter. You could hear the clanging of the old radiators in the middle the night as the heating system struggled to get hot water up to the second floor. If that did not convince you house was haunted the scratching of mice in the walls would.
All of this is to say there is a lot of interesting things to photograph in this house. There are wonderful textures in the walls, floors, and ceilings. Overtime, as a way to manage her anxieties my mother has turned the house into a bit of a museum. Everything has its place. All extra things have been removed. The second floor and the attic are basically storage areas now since my parents have moved down stairs as their mobility has decreased.
I have seen other projects were photographers have returned to or examined their parent’s homes or workshops, often after they were dead. Perhaps this is why I have hesitated to turn the lens to this subject. Both my parents are still alive and I like it that way. I found making these images uncomfortable and I could not photograph if my parents were home. Many of my past projects have examined things which are fading. My experiences growing up in this house have provided me with an anchor for my life. A sense of being grounded. I do not like to think this may be changing and that they may fade.
