mère-fille:
an archive of care

by Claudia Goulet-Blais
BFA, Concordia University, 2021

A thesis support paper submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of
Master of Fine Arts
Emily Carr University of Art + Design, 2025

© Claudia Goulet-Blais, 2025

mère-fille:
an archive of care

Claudia Goulet-Blais

ABSTRACT

In my thesis project, mère-fille (mother-daughter): an archive of care, I reflect on the evolving
dynamics within family relationships through the photographic medium. By combining found
archival photographs of maternal interactions with images I make in collaboration with my mother,
the work centres on the embrace as a gesture of connection. My research draws from 19th-century
hidden mother photography, exploring the tensions of both physical and emotional proximity and
distance, reflecting on mortality and loss, and examining the historical undervaluing of women’s
care work. Photographs, video, and ceramics engage with the complexities of shifting roles that
accompany aging, through both subject matter and material presence. Rooted in the slowness
of analogue photography and ceramics-making, the project fosters care through collaboration
and contemplation. The relationship between sculptural form and images unfolds as a dialogue
between materials: porcelain embodies the fragility of care, while video introduces the underlying
anxiety inherent to caring for someone.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I acknowledge that my work has been created on the unceded and traditional territories of
the Coast Salish peoples, including the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and
səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations. As a white settler and an artist whose practice is rooted in care
and connection, I extend my care and recognition to this land and its traumatic history.
Many people have made my experience at Emily Carr University of Art + Design exceptional.
In particular, I am grateful to my supervisors, Birthe Piontek and Randy Lee Cutler, who knew
exactly when to encourage, challenge, and support me. Their care, both in their mentorship and
beyond has made me feel supported throughout. I also want to thank Gonzalo Reyes Rodriguez,
whose guidance has been key in pushing me to work hard and take risk in my practice. Thank you
to Lisa Baldissera for serving as the external reviewer for my thesis defense, I look forward to our
conversations and your thoughtful insights.
My cohort has been fortunate to learn from incredible professors throughout our MFA.
Thank you for guiding our creative research and for fostering critical engagement within the
classroom. A special thank you to Sara Osenton for our regular meetings, where we worked
towards my writing in depth—your strategies and anecdotes have been memorable. I am also very
appreciative of the technicians who have been generous with their time, knowledge, and support—
your expertise has made my ideas possible.
To my partner, Patrick Oliver, thank you for moving to Vancouver with me, for your loving
support, and for assisting with every exhibition installation.
Lastly, and most importantly, I extend my gratitude to my mother, who has embarked on this
vulnerable creative journey with me. What began as a mother-daughter collaboration guided by a
few initial ideas has evolved into something far more profound. The process of creating together
is one I will cherish, your energy and support has made mère-fille: an archive of care a wonderful
experience.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT											
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS									
TABLE OF CONTENTS 									
LIST OF FIGURES										

02
03
04
05

Introduction 					
				08
Care as a Gendered Labour of Love 							
12
The Embrace											
18
Materializing Care through Porcelain							26
Taking the Image Off the Wall								32
Embracing Error										40
Hidden Daughter										44
Careful Surveillance 									
52
Conclusion 											
58
Thesis Exhibition Documentation 								62
Reflection 											
70
					
WORKS CITED										
WORKS CONSULTED									

04

73
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LIST OF FIGURES
Fig. 1. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process image (in the studio), 2025.					
					
Fig. 2. Claudia Goulet-Blais, The Family Project (detail), 2019.
Fig. 3. Claudia Goulet-Blais, The Family Project (detail), 2019.
Fig. 4. Sophie Calle, Rachel Monique (detail), Paris, Éditions Xavier Barral, 2017.
Fig. 5. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled I from mère-fille series, 2024.
Fig. 6. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled V from mère-fille series (crops of found archival photographs from
the Vancouver Flea Market), 2024.
Fig.7. Claudia Goulet-Blais Care in Action (detail), MFA State of Practice Exhibition, 2024.
Fig. 8. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Étreintes Maternelles, Care in Action (installation view), MFA State of
Practice Exhibition, 2024.
Fig. 9. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Care in Action (installation view), MFA State of Practice Exhibition, 2024.
Fig. 10. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Étreintes Maternelles (installation view), MFA State of Practice Exhibition,
2024.
Fig. 11. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Étreintes Maternelles (detail), 2024. MFA State of Practice Exhibition,
2024.
Fig. 12. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (decal transfers on porcelain), 2024.
Fig. 13. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (floor installation), 2024.
Fig. 14. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Care in Action (detail of installation view), MFA State of Practice
Exhibition, 2024.
Fig. 15. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (deinstall of Étreintes Maternelles), MFA State of Practice
Exhibition, 2024.
Fig. 16. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (mold making for slip casting porcelain), 2024.
Fig. 17. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (small porcelain chain links), 2025.
Fig. 18. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (large porcelain chain links), 2025.
Fig. 19. Leslie Hewitt, Untitled (Delicate) from Still Life Series (detail), 2013. Sikkema Malloy Jenkins,
smjny.com/winter-2015-group.
Fig. 20. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled IV from mère-fille series, 2024.
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Fig. 21. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled VI from Hidden Daughter series, 2025.
Fig. 22. Laura Larson, Hidden Mother (detail), Baltimore, Saint Lucy Books, 2017.
Fig. 23. Ahndraya Parlato, Who is Changed and Who is Dead (detail), MACK, 2021.
Fig. 24. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled III from Hidden Daughter series), 2025.
Fig. 25. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled I from Hidden Daughter series, 2025.
Fig. 26. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled IV from Hidden Daughter series, 2025.
Fig. 27. Claudia Goulet-Blais, You Sleeping? series (video still), 2025.
Fig. 28. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled I from You Sleeping? series (detail), 2025.
Fig. 29. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter and Entre ce qui nous sépare, ce qui nous lie (Between
what separates us, what unites us) (installation view), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.
Fig. 30. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.
Fig. 31. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.
Fig. 32. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.
Fig. 33. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.
Fig. 34. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Entre ce qui nous sépare, ce qui nous lie (Between what separates us,
what unites us) (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.
Fig. 35. Claudia Goulet-Blais, You Sleeping? (installation view), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.

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Fig. 1. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process image (in the studio), 2025.

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Introduction

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All photographs are memento mori. To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s (or
thing’s) mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all
photographs testify to time’s relentless melt.
Susan Sontag, On Photography

Susan Sontag’s On Photography highlights how photography points to the transience of time, of
life, and as such is a reminder of death (15). Photography is not only a means of preserving moments
but also creating them—forming connections through image-making, and evoking emotion. I
centre my practice on autobiographical images that express internal emotional states and value
the medium’s ability to materialize ephemeral moments. The process of photography itself can lend
itself to fostering care and connection. I chose analogue photography to slow down collaboration,
allowing for deeper engagement through the shared process of making an image together. Delving
into relationships that are inherently complex yet rooted in love, such as family, allows for a mutual
understanding through the shared act of making.
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Fig. 2. Claudia Goulet-Blais, The Family Project (detail), 2019.

My first body of work with family, The Family Project (2019) (fig. 2-3), was an installation that
emerged from reuniting my parents—divorced for 20 years—to create fictional family photographs,
of an idealized sense of unity. Through images and video, this project looked at interaction and
body language within a dynamic that was awkward, challenging, yet supportive and caring. Created
at the mid-point of my BFA, it remains close to my heart, especially now that my father has left this
world. The photographs now serve as a reminder not only of his death but also of his life, as Susan
Sontag would describe they become, “a pseudo-presence and a token of absence. Like a wood-fire
in a room, photographs—especially those of people, of distant landscape and faraway cities, of
the vanished past—are incitements to reverie” (16). The family album-like installation preserves my
father and constructs the united family I had only dreamed of.
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It was the loss of my father that led me to my MFA thesis project, mère-fille: an archive of care.
There is something unnatural about losing a parent at the age of 24 and from that grief emerged
an urgency to collaborate with my mother while she is still here. Photography became a tool to
care for her in a meaningful way, especially after moving across the country, from Montréal to
Vancouver, to pursue my studies and establish my career as an artist. The thesis project began
as an effort to bridge that distance and foster our connection through conversation and artistic
collaboration, where my mother agreed to be photographed and to discuss themes of aging
and mortality. Echoing Sophie Calle’s art-making, particularly her artist book Rachel Monique, an
elegy to her mother, I create to ask challenging questions about kinship dynamics and mortality,
transforming my vulnerability and anxieties into playful creativity. mère-fille: an archive of care is
grounded in the intersection of care, my dual roles as daughter and artist, and situated within
contemporary art and feminist discourse surrounding women’s care work.

Fig. 3. Claudia Goulet-Blais, The Family Project (detail), 2019.
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Care as a Gendered Labour of Love

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During the two-year MFA thesis research at Emily Carr University of Art + Design, I took on
a journey of investigating ideas around care with my mother, with image-making as central to the
practice. Through collecting found images, alongside experimenting with other mediums such as
ceramics and video, I have explored care within our relationship, approaching it not only on an
emotional level but also by attempting to materialize care.
Prior to starting the MFA, my perspective of care within familial contexts was shaped by
personal and relational experiences. Growing up as an only child in a single-parent household has
influenced my view of family and the many roles we take on and exchange over time. It also defined
and informed the close relationship I have with my mother. Experiences such as my father’s illness
and passing left me with unanswered questions, making me hyper aware of impermanence and
death—a natural phenomenon that feels so unnatural.
A defining experience that deepened my understanding of care occurred during my teenage
years, when I witnessed and assisted my mother as she cared for her own mother over the
course of five years before her passing from Alzheimer’s disease. This experience highlighted the
complexities of aging and the shifting dynamics within familial relationships, as my mother became
a caregiver—a complete reversal of roles. Through this caregiving, where a daughter was now
taking care of her mother, I came to recognize acts of care to be complex, laborious, undervalued
and—importantly—gendered. While these acts were grounded in love, the emotional and physical
toll it took on both mother and daughter was evident. Through my research, I seek to explore the
emotional dimensions of care within familial relationships.
In They Call It Love: The Politics of Emotional Life, author Alva Gotby frames care as labour:
“reproductive labour has an important emotional aspect – the work of soothing children, providing
company for the elderly, and maintaining intimate forms of sociality. This work is commonly known
as ‘love’” (x). For Gotby, care becomes a labour-intensive act disguised as love, where “love entails
an expectation of being constantly available to meet the emotional needs of people they [women]
love” (10). In capitalist society, certain roles and responsibilities are assigned to mothers and
daughters, and taking care of someone out of love does not mean it is easy or labour-free. Love
and responsibility intersect as we navigate changing dynamics in parent-child relationships, and
these roles are inherently gendered, where “women perform significant amounts of unwaged care
work” (xvii). Gotby informs the way that I define care in this project: a labour of love that is both
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complex and fluid. I understand care as an act, emotional or physical, big or small, often “unseen
[in] everyday effort”, and recognize that it is not inherently one-sided, as “we are all dependent on
one another” (4). Within mother-daughter relationships, care is often reciprocal and continuously
evolving and this thesis project serves as a means towards understanding ever-shifting
responsibilities and roles within them.
The fear of aging is shared and timeless. Born when my mother was 42, I find myself at 28,
working on this project at a moment that feels timely, vulnerable, and overwhelming. mère-fille: an
archive of care creates a space for my mother and I to share these fears, as she too faces a fear
of aging and the changes it brings—physical, emotional, and social. Through image-making with
analogue photography, a slow process that allows conversation, and physical interaction, we are
adapting to our evolving roles, while contemplating this fear that resonates with so many of us. I
am interested in what it means to work through the fear of aging and death with the person we
care most about in this world.
Artist Sophie Calle has long been an inspiration to my practice. I am fascinated by her
provocative investigations into others’ lives, which are voyeuristic, witty, vulnerable and beautiful. I
first encountered her artist-book Rachel Monique (2012), in September 2023 as I began developing
my MFA thesis project, and I felt it encapsulated her artistic approach. In this work, Calle
memorializes her mother through photographs, text and archival images, integrating passages
from her mother’s diaries—diaries her mother offered her in her final moments. Calle adds a
playful yet profound touch to the book with a stamp that reads “Ce livre a été volé à Monique
Sindler”—playing with the notion that this book, which holds her mother’s personal moments, has
now been “stolen” (volé) and made public. One could argue Calle is an artist who excels at shocking
and unsettling her audience. In Rachel Monique, she includes a series of video stills of her mother’s
last breath (fig. 4). These images evoke a powerful emotional response, forcing us to confront our
own reflections on mortality and loss. This series is poignant in the way that it is both vulnerable
and audacious, capturing our attention in a way that echoes Calle’s ability to engage her audience
in unexpected ways.
Her practice inspires my own vulnerability through the personal themes that I take up in my
own artmaking, encouraging an exploration of personal and difficult subjects while embracing a
playful approach—one that feels fun, experimental, and not overly serious.
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Figure removed due to copyright restrictions.
The removed material is an image of a spread
from Sophie Calle’s artist book Rachel Monique.

Fig. 4. Sophie Calle, Rachel Monique (detail), Paris, Éditions Xavier Barral, 2017.
Clément Chéroux highlights this sense of playfulness in Sophie Calle: “[…] despite the unmistakable
presence of death, the work of Sophie Calle is rarely morbid. Perhaps this is because she constantly
compensates for the gravity of her subjects with a deliberately light approach”. Reflecting on
loss and grief through art can create space for contrasts and paradoxes, such as experiencing
sadness and loneliness alongside joy and connection. Calle’s work engenders layered emotions,
and I imagine that creating these pieces allows the artist to process difficult, universal emotions.
Similarly, I make art from a place of personal experience—not only as an opportunity to process
what I am experiencing, but also with an interest in how familial intimacy shapes our identities and
influences how we see the world. What role do mother-daughter relationships play in the formation
of identity? We are raised with certain values and understandings of life, and later, we must
navigate and differentiate our own beliefs from those we were taught.
As my mother and I collaborate on the thesis research together, our roles as mother and
daughter intersect with those of artist and collaborator. Unlike Calle’s Rachel Monique, I wanted my
mother to be an active participant in the project by making her co-artist, however, as time passed, I
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came to realize that achieving this balance was more complex than I had anticipated. Susan Sontag
writes “[a] photograph is not just the result of an encounter between an event and a photographer;
picture-taking is an event in itself, and one with ever more peremptory rights—to interfere with, to
invade, or to ignore whatever is going on. (11)” mère-fille: an archive of care is not about capturing a
specific moment, but rather about the experience of making the images itself—a process that acts
as an intervention in our lives, an expression of care inviting us to discover what it means to care
for one another. The relational dynamics of our connection are explored through conversation and
the act of photography itself.
Photographing my mother inherently changes the power dynamic, leaving us to negotiate
these new roles within the project, reflecting the shifting responsibilities we encounter in our
relationship as we both age. This complex process requires ongoing effort to redefine our
responsibilities to and with each other. In the project, I inevitably shape how she is represented,
even as I aim to involve her in the process and share agency by listening to her ideas and desires.
Despite these efforts, I believe that the role of the artist involves a level of interference and control
over the direction and outcome of the photographs. As the artist, my vision guides the imagemaking and inevitably shapes what viewers perceive. This idea is reflected in Untitled I (mère-fille
series, 2024) (fig. 5); my mother and I are depicted holding hands, our arms entangled in a grip that
is both strong and tense. This image, informed by my personal experience, speaks to the desire to
hold onto people or moments as they are, while also reflecting the complex nature of caring for
someone. People navigate life with different needs and desires, and to care for another involves
trying to understand the other’s needs while also acknowledging your own capabilities and limits.
This photograph is directed by my own vision of care and would likely have been captured very
differently from my mother’s viewpoint. The tension between interference and collaboration, as well
as between control and care is pivotal to the thesis project. This dynamic surfaces in various phases
of the mère-fille: an archive of care, as I delve into the complexities of care and family dynamics
through autobiographical photographs and material exploration, where I share a glimpse into my
experience of daughterhood.

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Fig. 5. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled I from mère-fille series, 2024.
17

The Embrace

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Fig. 6. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled V from mère-fille series (crops of found archival photographs from
the Vancouver Flea Market), 2024.

19

The embrace became a central symbol to the thesis project, as I considered how emotions
and tensions are carried, both mentally and physically, and how we take on the weight of others’
emotions. Gotby describes emotional labour as an embodied practice, emphasizing how we
use the body not only to communicate emotions but also feel them physically and cognitively
(4). “[Emotional Labour] is not only a mental practice; it is something that involves the body. We
feel emotions in our bodies—from the tension of anger or anxiety to the warmth of joy” (4). The
embrace symbolizes both care for others and a reminder of the importance of self-care, a delicate
balance that is often forgotten. I was particularly drawn to the embrace because, despite the deep
love in my relationship with my mother, physical intimacy has never been our instinctive way of
expressing affection or care. The entangled embrace as depicted in Untitled I (mère-fille series) (fig.
5), felt like a playful and meaningful opportunity to explore this intimate gesture, reflects on how it
appears in familial connections and how it can be used to express internal states.
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Fig.7. Claudia Goulet-Blais Care in Action (detail), MFA State of Practice Exhibition, 2024.

Fig. 8. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Étreintes Maternelles, Care in Action (installation view), MFA State of
Practice Exhibition, 2024.
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Fig. 9. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Care in Action (installation view), MFA State of Practice Exhibition, 2024.

Fig. 10. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Étreintes Maternelles (installation view), MFA State of Practice Exhibition,
2024.
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The two bodies of work, Care in Action and Étreintes Maternelles (Maternal Embrace) (fig.
8,9,10) that I installed for the State of Practice Exhibition (2024) in the Michael O’Brian Exhibition
Commons at Emily Carr University of Art + Design explore the concept of the embrace through
found archival photographs as well as photographs that I made with my mother. For Care in
Action (fig. 9), I asked my mother to perform for the camera, guiding her through an exploration
of movement and gestures. The final three images were composed of in-camera analogue double
exposures, a technique chosen to express a ghostly presence and sense of impermanence. I
appear in only one of the photographs (fig. 7), my arms tightly holding onto my mother. Am I
holding on to the mother I’ve always depended on? Or am I holding on in fear of losing her? Is this
an effort of navigating the distance between us?
While Care in Action reflects the relationship with my mother, my work resonates more
broadly to the unique and complex nature of maternal relationships experienced by many. Through
my exploration of body language in found photos collected from the Vancouver Flea Market, I
took a particular interest in the depictions of mother-child connections expressed through touch
and embrace. These anonymous archival objects bring their own historical context to my project
and enter a dialogue with my personal narratives. Informed by my interpretation of these images
as representations of mother-child connections. I cropped some of the images as I observed
the physical interactions depicted, focusing on stances that convey either affection, distance, or
ambivalence (fig. 6). In turn they shaped and helped focus my own photographs. As Susan Sontag
describes it, “[t]o collect photographs is to collect the world” (3). The themes of care, aging and
mortality are shared human experiences that manifest in people’s lives very differently.
Within my research, I am interested in the experience of both mother and daughter.
Artist Ahndraya Parlato’s Who is Changed and who is Dead has informed my perspective on
shifting maternal relationships through her photographs and narration from her dual roles as
both a mother and a daughter. She draws out the complexities of negotiating the many aspects
of connection to her children and her own mother who has passed. She makes clear how
relationships with mothers shape our identity and influence how we will be mothers in turn. The
book shares autobiographical elements and broader reflections on mortality, gender roles, and
the everyday in motherhood, through staged photographs and others more candid that guide the
viewer through a visual and textual narrative. Parlato deals with themes of death and loss: “I’m
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scared of dying because you need me. I’m scared of dying because I have so much curiosity
about the people you will become and the thought of not experiencing that is heart-wrenching.
And, of course, the scariest scenario of all – your death – which I imagine as the hardest thing I
could be asked to endure” (11). The fear she expresses speaks to the vulnerability and anxieties of
motherhood and to the dynamic between mother and child. Parlato’s reflections on daughterhood
and loss, particularly the feeling of guilt resonates with me: “I think about how sometimes I used
to feel uncomfortable having fun when you were alive, and I knew you were sitting alone in your
apartment” (95). By producing this sense of guilt so common, I relate to this feeling as a daughter
living far away from her mother. My thesis project has required a conscious effort to communicate
more openly with my mother, to travel to see each other and prioritize time together for making
photographs. This ongoing exchange has brought up conversations about our roles within this
project and the evolving nature of our mother-daughter relationship through distance, aging and
shared experiences of loss. Gotby reinforces this idea of guilt: “Feminist writings on care often
mention the feeling of guilt as a corollary of love. Even though it is a negative emotion, one that
people try to avoid, it is closely connected to love” (11). She also describes the family as a “place
of intense feeling, and the most important source of emotional wellbeing, but it also continually
produces pain, trauma, and disappointment, as well as investment in ideologies of love and labour”
(1). These contrasting ideologies and emotions described by Gotby bring forth the anxieties within
a dynamic of love that I strive to convey in my photographs, particularly through the means of body
language.

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25

Materializing Care Through Porcelain

26

Fig. 11. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Étreintes Maternelles (detail), 2024. MFA State of Practice Exhibition,
2024.

27

The found photos that I have been collecting since the start of my thesis project appear
in Étreintes Maternelles (fig. 11) as photo-transfers onto porcelain, where the photograph’s threedimensionality is emphasized through materiality. I was initially drawn to porcelain for its fragility,
and my associations with domestic objects found in a kitchen armoire — untouched, protected,
perhaps reserved for special occasions, as decorations holding memories, or as a family heirloom.
Porcelain objects are typically cared for in a home, and I wanted to explore that association in
relation to the found photographs I had been collecting — photos discarded, either bought at
estate sales or given away to collectors from flea markets. It fascinates me that once-cherished
memories and photographs are for sale, at my disposal to look through and select depictions of
mother-child connections. I want to handle these photo-objects with the care they deserve through
installation and material exploration.
My process for transferring images on ceramics involves printing the images on a filmcoated paper using a decal transfer technique, creating a waterslide transfer onto the porcelain
(fig.12). These pieces, shaped from cut slabs, and glazed, are designed to mimic the appearance
of paper photo prints, while allowing the embodied physical process of making them naturally
form the crinkles and waves of the ceramics. I displayed over 50 pieces on a handmade cherry
wood shelf, where spending time with the sequence is essential to the viewing experience (fig.10).
After this iteration, I began exploring various shapes and sizes for these porcelain photographs,
eventually experimenting with displaying them on the floor—transforming the viewer’s experience
completely by requiring them to look down and carefully navigate around the pieces — hopefully
with care (fig.13). I appreciate the contrast of the fragile objects on a concrete floor—a juxtaposition
that resonates with the photographs of my mother, which embody a care that is loving, yet layered
with complexity. I do not alter the original narratives of the found photographs, but to reframe
them, creating a dialogue between past and present as well as their imagery and my personal
narrative. Ultimately, mère-fille: an archive of care explores the meaning of care through materials
and representation. The materiality of porcelain becomes a symbol of care—valuing both the
discarded images and the embraces they depict.
I position my thesis project in conversation with artists and theorists who examine the
physicality of photography as well as the role of vernacular imagery in contemporary art. Elizabeth
Edwards and Janice Hart’s Photographs Objects Histories (2024) is a pivotal influence in how I
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Fig. 12. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (decal transfers on porcelain), 2024.

Fig. 13. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (floor installation), 2024.

29

approach the medium of photography not only as images but also as material objects through
photo transfers on ceramics. In the book’s introduction, the authors examine the materiality of
photography from different angles, such as the physicality of the surface, which includes the paper,
plasticity and chemistry. They also consider the presentational form such as albums, frames or
mounts, as well as the physical traces of usage and time that leave marks on the photo objects. The
authors explain how materiality has often been overlooked in photography’s history but argue that
it is deeply embedded in the photograph’s characteristics. They highlight that “[a]cknowledging the
material makes the act of viewing more complex and more difficult, as the act of viewing cannot
any longer be processed in the same way” (14-15). This notion resonates with my exploration,
where from a distance, the porcelain pieces can convey the illusion of paper, leading the viewer to
acknowledge the material aspect of the work.
Through shaping the porcelain, my presence is imprinted in every fold, tear, and crinkle,
embedding my touch permanently in the pieces. This intimacy aligns with Edwards and Hart’s
assertion that “[m]ateriality also extends the indexicality of the image through both bodily
interaction with the photo-object, especially the tactile, and through interventions with the indexical
image” (13). I emphasize how photographs hold “traces of [their] former material lives”, carrying
their own histories (5). My interest in working with found photographs stems from a curiosity about
their past lives. What were their authors’ intentions? How were they cared for? While focusing on
the embraces between mother and child for content when selecting these images, the physical
qualities of the photographs are also essential to my considerations. In Photographs Objects
Histories (2024), historian Glenn Willumson’s essay “Making Meaning: Displaced materiality in the
library and art museum” encapsulates my interest in collecting discarded archival photographs.
He writes: “Although [photographs] are initially treasured for their ability to reproduce a person,
an event or a location, the passage of time is not kind to photographs. As connection is lost and
memory fades, photographs are quickly stored in boxes and albums. They are moved to attics
and basements until, eventually, they become merely discarded objects” (62). I am particularly
interested in how the found photographs I work with, once discarded from private spaces, now
exist in my practice. This idea of shifting contexts from private to public is a central idea discussed
in Willumson’s essay.
Porcelain became my material of choice for this project due to its permanence and the value
30

that people often attach to it. This idea of caring for these photographs that were once discarded
and are now transformed into porcelain objects is central to the research. It echoes Edwards and
Hart’s idea that materiality and content of an image should both be considered. They suggest,
“there is a need to break, conceptually, the dominance of image content and look at the physical
attributes of the photograph that influence content in the arrangement and projection of visual
information” (2). Through the making of these porcelain photo-objects, I was struck by how my
personal conception of memory, shaped by experiences of illness and loss, as well as the fear
of forgetting, had created a strong attachment to strangers’ stories that are embedded in these
object-photographs.

31

Taking the Image Off the Wall

32

As I began to reflect on the materiality of photography—particularly through my exploration
of bridging sculpture and photography through photo transfer methods on ceramics—
considerations of installation methods became central not only to how I present my work in a space
but also to my creative process. I now think about how I want to engage both the exhibition space
and the viewer even before I begin making the work. Since preparing for the State of Practice
Exhibition, I have been interested in taking the photograph off the wall and expanding it into the
space, challenging the conventional idea of a two-dimensional image while highlighting the threedimensional qualities of photographic medium. For State of Practice, I built a 12-foot shelf out of
cherry wood (fig. 10) and created three photo-holders (fig. 14) from the same material to suspend
my photographs two inches away from the wall. I was drawn to cherry wood for its natural ability
to change color with time, a quality that resonated with themes of evolving roles through aging. I
was pleasantly surprised by how this transformation manifested physically after only a few weeks of
installation, the porcelain pieces displayed on the shelf had left subtle traces on the wood, revealing
the impact of the light even in a space that was not directly exposed to a window (fig. 15).
With the porcelain photo-objects, the shelf and the holders, I aimed to move the
photographic image beyond the flatness of the wall. I printed the photographs held by the wooden
structures on Masa paper, a material that offered movement and a delicateness that connected to
the fragility of the porcelain and contributed conceptually to the work. My goal for the materials
and installation methods was for them to contribute meaningfully to the project rather than serving
solely as presentation tools.
33

Fig. 14. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Care in Action (detail of installation view), MFA State of Practice
Exhibition, 2024.

34

Fig. 15. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (deinstall of Étreintes Maternelles), MFA State of Practice
Exhibition, 2024.

35

Fig. 16. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (mold making for slip casting porcelain), 2024.

36

Fig. 17. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (small porcelain chain links), 2025.

Fig. 18. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Process Image (large porcelain chain links), 2025.
37

With my interest in giving the photographic image a sculptural presence, I found inspiration
from Leslie Hewitt’s Still Life Series. In this work, Hewitt arranges books, wood and printed images
on the floor, then frames and positions the still-life photographs against the gallery wall in a way
that seamlessly integrates them into the physical space (fig. 19). This subtle yet compelling play
between two-dimensional and three-dimensional elements influences my approach for the MFA
Thesis Exhibition.
In view of the exhibition and wanting to further explore various installation methods
and their impact on the viewing experience, I learned the skills of mold making and slip casting
porcelain, a material that remains integral to my investigation of care (fig. 16). I envision creating
porcelain chains where two will be composed of small links (fig. 17) and installed in a way that
creates the illusion of suspending a photograph. I will also make larger chain links (fig.18) to form
structures that will support two dibond-mounted photographs, allowing them to be propped up
and lean against a wall. Once again, I will be experimenting with how photography can exist—
three dimensionally—in a space and how this allows mère-fille: an archive of care to exist at the
intersection of sculpture and photography.

38

Figure removed due to copyright restrictions.
The removed material is an installation
photograph of Leslie Hewitt’s Untitled (Delicate)
from Still Life Series at Sikkema Malloy Jenkins.

Fig. 19. Leslie Hewitt, Untitled (Delicate) from Still Life Series (detail), 2013. Sikkema Malloy Jenkins,
smjny.com/winter-2015-group.

39

Embracing Error

40

Fig. 20. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled IV from mère-fille series, 2024.

41

A significant challenge of working with analogue photography is the anticipation of the
outcome, which can be both stressful and disappointing. Yet, there is also a sense of thrill and
reward in this uncertainty, especially when an image turns out as expected or even surpasses
expectations. This tension became particularly heightened in my thesis project, where my
collaboration with my mother imposed limitations on our photo sessions. Since we could only
make photographs together during my visits to Québec and her visits to British Columbia, each
opportunity took on a sense of importance that left very little space for error or failure. I had to
make the most of each opportunity, exposing multiple rolls per visit while hoping for the best
results.
One of the most pivotal moments in this project arose from an error. Untitled IV (mère-fille
series, 2024) (Fig. 20) resulted from an accidental double exposure. I had intended to take both
a portrait of my mother and a self-portrait, but instead, I overlaid the two images onto the same
frame without noticing, as I was working behind the camera while also being in the photographs
myself. When I received the developed film in Vancouver, weeks after my visit, I initially saw this
as a failure. The two portraits were fused together, making it impossible to view them separately
as I had originally intended. I was also unable to reshoot the portraits as I was now thousands
of miles away. Disappointed, I was quick to dismiss the image. However, during a meeting with
my supervisors, I shared the image with them, and they encouraged me to reconsider it. They
saw something powerful in the emotional impact of the double portrait rather than simply being
representational.
From that point on, I began to actively embrace the mistake of the double exposure,
reframing it as a deliberate artistic method. This led to the development of my State of Practice
series, Care in Action, which was intentionally built around in-camera analogue double exposures.
I gave up having full control on the final outcome of the image, allowing the unpredictability of
the process to shape the work. What began as an accident transformed into a visual choice. In
this series, the double exposures emphasize the movement of the embrace in care and self-care
while also creating a ghostly presence that speaks to the themes of absence, loss, fading memory,
and the act of holding on (fig. 9). This approach allowed me to let go of traditional photographic
conventions that I previously followed closely, inviting me to reconsider my relationship to the
image and embrace the lack of control embedded in analogue processes.
42

This method will once again appear in for the MFA Thesis Exhibition, where I have created
a double-exposed portrait of my mother and myself for Untitled VI (Hidden Daughter series) (fig.
21). Through this technique, I explore both similarities and differences between us, pointing to the
passage of time and the evolving nature of our relationship. I appreciate the double exposure for
its layering of frames that closely aligns with the layers of complexity innate care and relationships.

Fig. 21. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled VI from Hidden Daughter series, 2025.
43

Hidden Daughter

44

Figure removed due to copyright restrictions.
The removed material are detail images from
Laura Laron’s Hidden Mother artist book.

Fig. 22. Laura Larson, Hidden Mother (detail), Baltimore, Saint Lucy Books, 2017.

45

Although initially driven by personal experience, the project has evolved through
engagement with artistic and theoretical frameworks, sparking new reflections on the complexities
and dualities within familial relationships of care. In They Call it Love, Gotby frames care as labour,
emphasizing its inherently gendered nature. She explains that “[t]hrough the framework of gender
complementarity, women’s emotional skill is seen as something men lack” and as a result of this
“emotional deskilling” men are “excused from carrying out emotional labour while appearing as
‘self-made’ and not owing anything to people who have cared for them” (69-70). Gotby highlights
how societal norms and ideologies, which characterize women as motherly or caring, have
historically excused men from these responsibilities.
Reading Parlato’s Who is Changed and who is Dead I was reminded of 19th century
photography—specifically daguerreotypes and tintypes of children—where mothers, hidden by
drapes, would hold their children still during long exposure times to prevent blurring (fig. 22).
These images are striking in their awkwardness and eeriness, but they also serve as poignant
symbols of care. The mother’s role is essential, yet she is masked, present but unseen. This notion
of the maternal figure, both visible but out of focus, resonates with the ways in which women’s
care work has been historically undervalued and overlooked. This concept of hidden mother
became a pivotal moment during the second year of my thesis research, in turn inspiring my latest
photographs with my mother.
I began researching this historical genre and discovered Laura Larson’s artist book Hidden
Mother. The book weaves together fragments of historical context, personal narratives, poetry,
and a curated selection of historical photographs depicting women hidden by fabric while holding
babies and young children as their photograph was being captured (fig. 23). Larson fittingly asks,
“Why would they not simply take a photograph of the child with the mother?” (12). While these
thoughts are compelling, I found myself drawn, once again, to the embrace — the various ways
mothers held their children, the closeness and the distance captured in these images. This inspired
me to use the embrace and fabric as a visual metaphor in my own photographs, where I became
the hidden daughter. Reflecting on the shifting roles within my relationship with my mother, I see
how the way we care for one another has transformed over time. From my mother raising me alone
and walking me to school each day, to now myself worrying about her from afar, our dynamic has
evolved. This negotiation of responsibilities and roles is discussed by Lori A. McGraw and Alexis
46

J.Walker in Negotiating Care: Ties Between Aging Mothers and Their Caregiving Daughters (2004),
where they expose the challenge with “balancing expectations that women — both mothers and
daughters — have ambitions and independent needs of their own” (326). It is a difficult reality to
navigate in finding the balance between personal aspirations and family ties.
In Untitled III (Hidden Daughter series, 2025) (fig. 24), I use fabric to obscure my presence in
the photograph while still reaching out to hold onto my mother. The embrace here feels uncertain,
light and distanced, whereas in another image from that series Untitled I (Hidden Daughter series,
2025), (fig. 25), we are both hidden, disappearing into the drapery, trying to hold on to one another.
In Untitled IV (Hidden Daughter series, 2025) (fig. 26), the fabric covering my body takes on the form
of a veil—evoking a person in mourning. Here, the embrace, holding on, becomes central again,
offering a reflection on future loss. Fabric is a material I explore in various colors and patterns,
using its ability to conceal bodies—much like in hidden mother photography—while also evoking
associations with funerals and mortality, all while emphasizing the hands and the embrace that
remain uncovered (fig. 24, 25, 26).

Figure removed due to copyright restrictions.
The removed material is an image of a spread
from Ahndraya Parlato’s Who is Changed and
Who is Dead artist book.

Fig. 23. Ahndraya Parlato, Who is Changed and Who is Dead (detail), MACK, 2021.
47

Fig. 24. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled III from Hidden Daughter series), 2025.
48

Fig. 25. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled I from Hidden Daughter series, 2025.

49

Fig. 26. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled IV from Hidden Daughter series, 2025.
50

51

Careful Surveillance

52

you sleeping?
													
Going to bef
														
Bed
a guy was ringing my doorbell
I did not answer
but I saw thru my bedroom window
													
oh shit
											
should you call police?
my heart is beating out of my chest
I have a headache 												
he’s gone
												
												

did he stop ringing?
are you sure?

yes he stopped
														
that was 2:45AM my time
												
												
I texted him
											

call L

scary

I would text L
ya that’s crazy

was the guy in a car?

don’t text him
												
did he ring lots?
							
did the guy see you when u looked in the window?
I was sound asleep
Do not sure how many times
but about 3
													

53

I’ll call you

Fig. 27. Claudia Goulet-Blais, You Sleeping? series (video still), 2025.

54

On April 14th, 2024, an unsettling incident occurred in the middle of the night. A man rang
my mother’s doorbell numerous times, and when she looked out the window, she saw him step
back a few feet and point his arm towards the front door, visibly waiting for someone to answer.
This situation felt unusual for the small, quiet city where she lives—a residential area far from any
bars or businesses. Perhaps it was nothing more than a drunk man trying to find his way home, but
it was enough to frighten my mother who texted me in a panic. At that moment, I felt powerless
and scared myself. She ended up calling the police, and the next day, I asked a friend to help her
set up surveillance cameras around her house.
What I did not anticipate was that a body of work would emerge from this situation (fig.
27, 28). As I began receiving Blink1 notifications for every movement the cameras detected—my
mother leaving for work everyday, a car driving by, a cat wandering in the middle of the night, the
mail carrier dropping off a package, the neighbour mowing his lawn—I started to connect this
overwhelming feeling to the anxieties I was experiencing as a daughter. These anxieties were tied
to shifting roles and the helplessness that comes with feeling like I have no control. I decided to
reconfigure this experience into a video and photo installation, hoping it would help me navigate
these emotions and bring out the layered, complex nature I was aiming for with mère-fille: an
archive of care.
At first, surveillance served as a means of bridging the physical distance between us,
allowing me to check on my mother from afar and ease my concerns about her being alone.
However, over time I began to question this “solution”. It not only introduced a new form of anxiety
into my daily life, with constant notifications throughout the day and night, but it also prompted
me to reconsider the inherently voyeuristic nature of surveillance, even when employed for
personal usage. My mother had consented to being monitored, but what about the mail carrier, the
neighbours walking by or her visitors? On one hand, there is a certain intrigue in observing scenes
from a distance—a sense of closeness and nostalgia evoked by watching my old neighbourhood,
observing my mother’s routine, and recalling the winter snow that I deeply miss. Nevertheless,
in contemporary society, surveillance has become overused, as David Danks notes in his essay
“Ubiquitous Surveillance and the Politics of Refusal”, “We have operated as a country, as a society, and
as individuals under the assumption that ubiquitous surveillance was primarily the province of law
1

Amazon. Blink Home Monitor app. blinkforhome.com/blink-app.
55

enforcement. We now must adapt to a world in which it is readily available to everyone” (244).
Installing surveillance cameras at my mother’s house seemed to be logical—normal—to ensure her
safety. Yet, it is disconcerting that an act as voyeuristic as watching someone has been normalized.
Out of respect for my neighbours and others captured in the footage, I exclusively used footage
from individuals from whom I have consent. Nonetheless, footage of all these individuals, license
plates, banal daily scenes, remain stored on my hard drive, and potentially in Amazon’s database,
given that Blink is owned by this enterprise. As Dank reminds us, “[p]erhaps the most important
kind of activism is personal and social, in that we can make individual choices to fight the slide
into ubiquitous surveillance. Before buying a “smart home assistant” such as Amazon Echo, we
should learn about the ways in which it does (or does not) support corporate surveillance” (246). It
is interesting to contextualize how certain usage of photography and video can contribute to the
proliferation of ubiquitous surveillance, even when that is not the user’s intention.
Avoiding surveillance and being captured on camera, whether by entering an establishment
or simply being in public space, has become increasingly difficult. Is it therefore wrong to install
cameras in front of a residence to ensure security and document potential incidents? This remains
a question I have yet to answer. However, employing this technology in my final installation—a
medium in which I have little experience—felt important in addressing tensions of care in my thesis
project. It also raises concerns that I had not previously contemplated. What are the implications
of the act of looking through a camera? The digital medium contrasts with the porcelain material
I utilized for its fragile, tangible quality—one that I associate with care. This juxtaposition also
engages with the physicality of photography versus the video image, which remains digitally
presented on a screen, creating a sense of distance and a more passive, voyeuristic gaze for the
viewer. I experience this distance myself when watching surveillance footage of my mother, despite
my intention to engage and help.

56

Fig. 28. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Untitled I from You Sleeping? series (detail), 2025.
57

Conclusion

58

I invite a final reflection on Roland Barthes’ Winter Garden Photograph—the image of his
mother that he writes about in Camera Lucida but never reveals. Barthes states that, to others,
it would be an “indifferent picture” as no viewer can share his deeply personal attachment (73).
This observation speaks to a challenge in autobiographical photography: How can we translate
personal experience into images that resonate with others? Barthes suggests that a photograph
is successful when it creates an emotional response. This challenge has been at the centre of the
making of mère-fille: an archive of care, guiding my approach to the balance between the personal
and the universal.
In my image-making, I engage with universal themes—loss, mortality, and aging—that
everyone, in some form, must confront. In presenting my own experiences, I create a space for
reflection, inviting viewers to engage with these themes through their own interpretations to these
shared experiences. Formal decisions such as obscuring faces, offer moments of pause and entry
into the narrative. Based on my own experience engaging with other artists’ work, such as Sophie
Calle’s images of her mother (fig. 4.), photographs rooted in personal narrative can resonate deeply
with viewers when photographs remain open-ended and capable of evoking affective responses.
Beyond my journey of exploring care with my mother through photographic processes, my
art-making has also included researching, collecting found imagery, experimenting with ceramics
and video, cumulating into an archive of care. Gotby’s reflections on the relational, political, and
embodied dimensions of emotional life have impacted how I come to understand care not only
as an intimate, relational practice but also as a gendered negotiation. My MFA thesis project was
also influenced by 19th-century hidden mother photography, where the embrace and feminist
perspective became even more central. By embracing error as a method and experimenting with
various installation methods, I have evolved my photographic practice into one where imagery,
materiality, physicality, and conceptual frameworks are inseparable, each continuously informing
the others.
My MFA journey has confronted me to introspection and creative exploration, focusing on
emotional resonance and inviting viewers into a dialogue about care, loss, and physical connection.
It has not only broadened my technical skills spanning from photography, ceramics and video, but
has also expanded my conceptual inquiries. As I leave Emily Carr University of Art + Design, I do so
with ambition and a continued interest in furthering my research on care through the history of
59

hidden mother photography, as well as pushing my video experimentation with surveillance. I
am particularly interested in the intersection of technology and care, looking at how caring for
someone can translate through text messages, email, surveillance, and social media platforms. As
I move forward, I will continue to work closely with those I care for through artistic collaboration,
recognizing the importance of connection and how much there is to learn about oneself through
these shared experiences.

60

61

Thesis Exhibition
Documentation

62

Fig. 29. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter and Entre ce qui nous sépare, ce qui nous lie (Between
what separates us, what unites us) (installation view), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.

63

Fig. 30. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.

64

Fig. 31. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.

65

Fig. 32. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.

66

Fig. 33. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Hidden Daughter (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.
67

Fig. 34. Claudia Goulet-Blais, Entre ce qui nous sépare, ce qui nous lie (Between what separates us,
what unites us) (detail), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.

68

Fig. 35. Claudia Goulet-Blais, You Sleeping? (installation view), MFA Thesis Exhibition, 2025.

69

Reflection

70

For the Thesis Exhibition (2025) at the Emily Carr University of Art + Design’s Michael O’Brian
Exhibition Commons, I presented the bodies of works Hidden Daughter (fig. 29-33), Entre ce qui
nous sépare, ce qui nous lie (Between what separates us, what unites us) (fig. 29, 34), and You Sleeping?
(fig. 35). Once installed together, these three projects formed their own archive of care, where
each medium was used to explore a different facet of the mother-child relationship. Photographs,
video, and ceramics engaged with the complexities of shifting roles that accompany aging, through
both subject matter and material presence. The relationship between sculptural form and image
unfolded as a dialogue between materials: porcelain embodied the fragility of care, while video
introduced the underlying anxiety inherent to caring for someone. Rooted in the slowness of
analog photography and ceramics-making, the project produced care through collaboration and
by providing time for reflection. By combining found archival photographs of maternal interactions
with images created in collaboration with my mother, the work centered on the embrace as a
gesture of connection. With inspiration from 19th-century hidden mother photography, the Hidden
Daughter series explores the tensions of both physical and emotional proximity and distance,
reflecting on mortality and loss, and examining the historical undervaluing of women’s care work.
While my installation was on view, I had the pleasure of numerous studio visits and
conversations with visitors in the space. I was excited to notice the various ways people
experienced the work differently and how much conversation it generated without needing direct
context from me. It was meaningful to see the work spark reflections, emotions and dialogues. I
learned a lot through these exchanges and appreciated the generosity people brought to their
viewing experience. Everyone carries their own experiences of family and relationships, and
themes of aging, connection, touch, and anxiety seemed to resonate in different ways as viewers
moved through the installation. I also noticed people’s curiosity about the materials, specifically
the porcelain—viewers often took time to realize what the material was, creating a slower, more
contemplative way of engaging with the work. This was interesting to witness, especially with
my approach to sculptural form, as I begin to explore various materials and approaches into a
single space. The process of installing confirmed how much I enjoy the challenge of working sitespecifically and how much the exhibition context, whether a university, a white cube gallery, or an
experimental space, shapes the way work is experienced. I find these shifts exciting and generative
for my practice.
71

Through various conversations during the exhibition, and particularly during my thesis
defense, I realized that while care has been central to my thesis project, the nuanced emotional
and relational dynamics expressed through gesture and body language were perhaps even more
central as expressions of psychological states within relationships. Although I began this project
rooted in personal experience, I now feel the desire to move beyond it, centering the work more
within contexts of psychology, and larger theoretical concepts such as the mother as other. During
my defense, the idea that my mother is not only herself or my mother, but rather a stand-in for a
broader concept of mother was something that resonated with me and pointed me towards a new
direction for future research.
Another important insight from my defense was around the idea of embracing error. While
I have embraced a lack of control in my process of image-making, especially with the doubleexposure and the performance aspects of my photographs, through answering the questions
on this part of my work, I realized that the overall installation is still quite controlled in the end.
This made me recognize the potential of how much further I could go in allowing chance, glitch,
and unpredictability into my methodology as it relates to the reality of human experience and
relationships.
The thesis defense was an inspiring and motivating moment. My panel—Birthe Piontek,
Randy Lee Cutler, Gonzalo Reyes Rodriguez and Lisa Baldissera—asked smart, thoughtful, and
challenging questions that not only affirmed the work I have done but also opened many exciting
paths for future exploration. Their engagement and feedback, with both my installation and
thesis support document, focused not only on the successful aspects but also on what could
evolve, providing me with ideas for how to engage within the same research terrain from other
perspectives.
As I work towards my next creative projects, I will continue to work closely with the people
and dynamics that shape my life, but with new strategies for how I approach and share my
experience. My MFA has transformed how I think about personal experience in my practice; it will
remain central but will focus more on larger conceptual frameworks and perhaps even involve
other people outside of my immediate circle. I feel motivated by the evolution of my practice
through this program and am excited to continue developing new ways of thinking and working
that build on my experience at Emily Carr University of Art + Design.
72

WORKS CITED
Barthes, Roland. Camera Lucida. 1980. Translated by Richard Howard, 1st American ed., Hill and
Wang, 1981.
Calle, Sophie, Rachel Monique. Éditions Xavier Barral, 2017.
Chéroux, Clément. Sophie Calle. Thames & Hudson, 2022.
Danks, David. “Ubiquitous Surveillance and the Politics of Refusal.” Mirror with a Memory, edited by
Dan Leers and Taylor Fisch, Carnegie Museum of Art, 2020, pp. 241-248.
Edwards, Elizabeth, and Janice Hart. “Introduction.” Photographs Objects Histories: On the
Materiality of Images. Routledge, 2010.
Gotby, Alva. They Call It Love: The Politics of Emotional Life. Verso, 2023.
Hewitt, Leslie. Untitled (Delicate) from Still Life Series (detail), 2013. Sikkema Malloy Jenkins, smjny
com/winter-2015-group.
Larson, Laura. Hidden Mother (detail), Saint Lucy Books, 2017.
McGraw, Lori A, and Alexis J. Walker. “Negotiating Care: Ties Between Aging Mothers and Their
Caregiving Daughters.” The Journals of Gerontology: Series B, vol. 59, no. 6, Nov 2004,
pp.324-332, doi.org/10.1093/geronb/59.6.S324.Accessed 26 Nov 2023.
Parlato, Ahndraya. Who Changed and who is Dead. MACK, 2021.
Sontag, Susan. On Photography. 1st American ed., Picador, 2001.
Willumson, Glenn. “Making Meaning: Displaced materiality in the library and art museum.” 		
Photographs Objects Histories: On the Materiality of Images, edited by Elizabeth Edwards and
Janice Hart, Routledge, 2010.

73

WORKS CONSULTED
Arnold-De Simine, Silke, and Joanne Leal. Picturing The Family: Media Narrative, Memory. New York,
Routledge, 2020.
Campt, Tina M. et al. Imagining Everyday Life: Engagements with Vernacular Photography. The
Walther Collection, 2020.
Cwynar, Sara. Kitsch Encyclopedia : A Survey of Universal Knowledge. Blonde Art Books, 2014.
Cwynar, Sarah. Source. 2021, Remai Modern, remaimodern.org/whatson/exhibitions-all/sara
cwynar-source/.
Engman, Charlie. Mom. Edition Patrick Frey, 2020.
England, Odette. Keeper of the Hearth: Picturing Roland Barthes’ Unseen Photograph, Schilt
Publishing, 2020.
Hirsch, Marianne. “Space, Materiality, and the Social Worlds of the Photograph.” Imagining Everyday
Life: Engagements with Vernacular Photography. Edited by Tina M. Campt, Marianne Hirsch, Gil
Hochberg, and Brian Wallis, The Walther Collection, 2020.
Hostetler, Lisa. A Matter of Memory: Photography as Object in the Digital Age. George Eastman
Museum, 2016.
Langford, Martha. “The Idea of the Album.” Suspended Conversations : The Afterlife of Memory in
Photographic Albums. 2nd ed., Mcgill-Queen’s University Press, 2008.
Naqvi, Zinnia. Dear Nani. Anchorless Press, 19 Feb. 2022.
Piontek, Birthe. Abendlied. Gnomic Book, 2019.
Rugoff, Raph. Shoot the Family. Independent Curators International, 2006.
Tergesen, Svava. Ornamental Cookery Capture Photography Festival. 2023, Audain Art Museum,
audainartmuseum.com/exhibitions/svava-tergesen-ornamental-cookery/.
Winant, Carmen. ‘Into the Album.” Aperture : Family, no.233, New York, Apeture Foundation, p.25-48,
2018.
Winant, Carmen. My Birth. 2018. MoMA, moma.org/collection/works/22274.
Yoon, Jin-me. Touring Home From Away. Presentation House Gallery, 2003.

74