Vanishing Point

Driving on a dark, deserted road late one night, I thought I glimpsed an animal writhing in agony by the side of the road. I impulsively looked into the rear-view mirror to reassure myself. In the dark back seat, my sleeping son’s faint outline and the sound of his steady breathing eased my sense of foreboding. But the image of the animal haunted me. Early the next morning, I re-traced my route to where I had seen it. Beside the road a large bag of refuse lay carelessly discarded. A gust of wind lifted the dark plastic and it fluttered and writhed.

Each of the photographs in the Vanishing Point installation is printed on a large piece of transparent film and suspended in space. These fragile prints have to be physically negotiated for an unencumbered view – in the search for an illusory answer, a denied resolution. An image of a forest or a shadow on the floor may provoke anxiety. What lies lifeless by the side of the road also has the potential to prick and to wound.

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New York State University, Buffalo, New York, 1998