Josefa Mulaire: Photography

Categories: The Donald Gallery

Opening this new season is Josefa Mulaire’s wonderful monthly layered photographs.

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Come by the gallery on Sunday, September 21st, from 11:30- 1:30 to talk with Josefa about her work and see the show.
Gallery hours are Tuesday through Sunday, 10am- 4pm.

The show runs September 21 through October 26th.

Artist’s Statement

M Y I N S I G N I F I C A N C E
By Josefa Mulaire

Each image depicts a calendrical month, and each ‘month image’ is the compilation of +/- 30 photographs that I have captured during that month. Recently my inclination to take photographs has waned, and often of late, my response to the art of photography is disappointment; I am left wanting. The single photograph no longer speaks to me. It is too staid to reflect the frenetic state of my high-blood-pressure-mother-of-a-teenage-boy-fifty-hour-work-week-no-safety-net-twenty-first-century-consciousness.
My answer to this is to gather all my photographs into a pile, one on top another, and then, to use this heap of creative evidence as my palette, and with it to ‘paint’ these time-based conglomerated abstractions, which better communicate the commotion in my head.
In the pandemonium of our digital world’s seemingly endless supply of photographs, Bresson’s ‘decisive moment’ is no longer decisive. There is no significant moment, there is instead an infinity of moments. With so many – often banal – socially mediated photographs, ever present, and surrounding us, perhaps the integrity of photography’s voice can be found in the collection of moments, and in the ways that these moments come together, coalesced.
To my mind, the image and information overload is too much. Added to this mental cacophony, my sense of time and memory is no longer all that linear. It is becoming amorphous. The boundaries between my moments are less delineated and more indistinct. I am forgetful. I create false memories. And in this way too, I can see my impressionistic reality reflected in this work.
But the title suggests that none of it matters, either decisively or ephemerally, and that every photograph is now insignificant, and that my photographs are a part of the hum from our modern-day hive.