Memory of a Space is a portent of our current global crises. Graffiti proclaiming ‘where loves lives’, crudely updated to ‘where loved lived’, is a cautionary quip for us all. Where do we find a safe haven in troubled times, when dealing with threats to humanity that aren’t defined by language or politics?
Jessie Chaney provides glimpses of details from lives once lived, forewarns a dystopian future where a plastic pigeon is the closest we have to wildlife. These are long-abandoned homes of people once considered fringe-dwellers: their desire for isolation is what others are now chasing.
Graffiti on a rundown house, boarded up with tin, apologetically declares the place off limits. But not everything is as bleak as it may seem. While time, weather and vandalism have had their impact, the buildings maintain an inherent beauty. Despite the gloom and doom, Chaney’s astute observations yield beautifully mournful photographs. We are experiencing something perilous but there is always.