The Power of Photography Through Grief
Through Grief
Photography has the unique power to freeze moments in time, preserving memories that become increasingly precious as life unfolds. This truth became particularly poignant during my recent exhibition when I learned of Dennis's passing - a client whose portrait, showcasing his ocean-blue eyes, hung on the gallery wall.
Dennis came to my pop-up studio with his caretaker Jenny, both fresh from getting haircuts. While Jenny wanted a photo with him, her main desire was to capture something special for his wife. I sensed the fragility of the moment, understanding that this might be his final professional portrait. Those photos later served a purpose I hoped they wouldn't need so soon - they were used at his memorial service.
The Weight of Documentation
My work as a photographer often intersects with grief, though it might not be apparent in the joyful moments I capture. The reality is stark but important to acknowledge:
- People die
- People disappear
- People deserve to be remembered authentically
This last point particularly strikes me when I see tragedy in the news. The choice of photos shared in these moments matters tremendously - a filtered selfie cannot serve the serious purpose of helping identify a missing person.
Learning Through Loss
My understanding of photography's importance deepened at my Uncle Bill's funeral. As the neighborhood mechanic with no children of his own, his impact was evident in the touching sight of his nieces and nephews serving as pallbearers, each wearing one of his hats. I wanted to photograph the moment, but it felt wrong. When my mother encouraged me to photograph the service, noting it wouldn't be wrong... "not the way you would do it," I realized that approaching such moments with respect and sensitivity could transform what might seem inappropriate into something meaningful and healing.
2010, Bill Strauch's nieces and nephews wearing his hat collection during his memorial luncheon
The Story in Our Hands
I'm particularly drawn to photographing hands. They tell stories that faces sometimes can't - of work, of age, of experience. At weddings, I seek out opportunities to capture multiple generations, especially through their hands. Having lost my own grandparents early in life, and both parents relatively young, I understand the profound value of these generational connections. When I photograph three generations of hands together, I'm documenting not just family resemblance, but cultural heritage, life experiences, and the passage of time.
A Final Plea
This is why I feel such urgency when I encourage people to have their photos taken, to purchase school photos, or to participate in free photo events. These aren't just pictures - they're artifacts of existence, proof of life, tokens of memory that become invaluable with time's passage.
Photography does more than capture moments - it immortalizes them. In a world where loss is inevitable, these frozen fragments of time become our most treasured possessions, helping us process grief and celebrate life simultaneously.
Photos below: Summer 2024, vbly photo hosted a **Free** portrait pop-up on Commercial Ave in Chicago's South Chicago Neighborhood
