Perched on a ledge before an open window is a vase of yellow roses, a symbol of joy and friendship. Shrouded and veiled by translucent curtains, the color and form of the flowers is mostly obscured, like a fading memory. The subject is familiar and would be banal if not captured in this very specific moment, this light and format, which renders it into a striking, elegiac vision.
The thin curtains that blanket the entire image diffuse the soft light of the outside with the warm greys of the interior room. On the threshold (and a precipice), the flowers exist in that space that is both departure and arrival. The photograph reads like a sentence from a Virginia Woolf novel or a still from a Wong Kar-wai film, where the everyday becomes of the utmost importance—where spaces carry memories and objects are marked by meanings. It’s a still life that seems ready to softly break from its stillness with a breath; it’s a funereal portrait wherein a hint of life is yet seen.
“Will You Miss Me Once I’m Gone?” was the final image artist Rafael Soldi shot in his series, Sentiment. According to Soldi, the series acts an “emotional exorcism” of the loss of his partner. The nine photographs form a portrait of love lost and a struggle to overcome grief. Of all the images, it was the quiet power of “Will You Miss Me Once I’m Gone?” that stayed with me long after I left the gallery.
“Will You Miss Me Once I’m Gone” is on view through February 14 as a part of In the absence of… at Greg Kucera Gallery, curated by Sierra Stinson and Klara Glosova.