"Finally, snippets of research on nostalgia and its relation to age. This first seems obvious and well-known (“as people enter their fifties and begin to take stock of their lives, they become more susceptible to nostalgia, according to Erica Hepper, a psychologist at the University of Surrey” - yeah, tell me about it!). But this other discovery is intriguing: “According to Hepper’s research, the other time nostalgia tends to peak is when people are in their late teens and early twenties. They’re facing a series of anxious life transitions, such as starting a career and moving out of their parents’ homes.”"
"If you see me with eyes clouded by a lifetime of false assumptions, tropes, stereotypes, lies – it’s not really me that you’re seeing at all. The body you’re placing on me is of your making, not mine – and I want you to take it back, and let it go."
For her iteration of the MCA Chicago Plaza Project, Ross-Ho re-creates this trio at a monolithic scale with faithful allegiance to the original image. Completing the installation is a large-scale rendering of a color calibration card—the color grid that is used to maintain accuracy in the printing or post-production of color photography because it remains consistent in various lighting conditions. By including this card—which is usually discarded or cropped out of finished photographs—Ross Ho presents an image that is self-consciously “contaminated,” as the color calibration card disrupts the composition. At the same time, its inclusion points to it as an artifact of a bygone era in which “accuracy” or “truth” in photography was a given. (via Amanda Ross-Ho | i like this art)
On May 30, 2012, at 10 PM was awakened and told to dress. Seventy-two of us were chained and shackled again and put onto another plane. When we landed, we were told we were near Kingston, Jamaica, and the officers gave each of us a phone card. Most of the men were able to arrange to have family members pick them up. Six of us were stranded. I knew no one in Jamaica—I hadn’t been there in more than 20 years, and my whole family now lived in the United States. I didn’t have any money or even a change of clothes. I’d lost 40 pounds while in detention, and the jeans and thermal shirt I was wearing when I was taken from my house were practically falling off me….
That’s how I came to find myself back in rural Jamaica at age 41, having never visited since leaving as a boy of 17. It’s a very tough place—there are no jobs, and crime and poverty are rampant. There are murders every day. People who are deported back here are stigmatized—seen as criminals who must have committed some heinous crime in order to be sent back—and often become the targets of violence. We’re seen as disposable and worthless, not entitled to anything, not even a job.So I have to keep quiet about my circumstances as I scramble to make a living, desperate to find a way home.