Untitled No.62 © Kerry Mansfield , Solo Exhibition Award Winner.
Merging the interior with the exterior, Kerry Mansfield uses reflections to layer the spaces in her Borderline series. Actively seeking instances where natural external space shifts seamlessly (yet unintentionally) into domestic structure.
Throughout this exploration I have found an often harmonious union between man and nature. Mirrored, reflected and superimposed, the elements became interchangeable. The sky became ceilings. Trees became walls. Ground became floor. Air became windows. In the resulting photographs, the windows themselves vanish entirely while the outside pours inside and vice versa. Once a structure is built, we then believe ourselves separate or “safe” from the so-called chaotic influences of the natural world. What I have found is that, in many respects, what we really believe is an illusion of separateness. And we’ve chosen this as our reality.
Mansfield’s work will be showcased in a solo exhibition at the Center.
See more of Kerry’s series at www.kerrymansfield.com
(Photo credit: Kerry Mansfield, Self-Portrait, Chemo 1st Cycle 01.2006)
(Photo credit: Kerry Mansfield, Self-Portrait, Chemo 3rd Cycle 02.2006)
(Photo credit: Kerry Mansfield, Self-Portrait, Chemo 4th Cycle 03.2006)
What makes photographer Kerry Mansfield’s series Aftermath hard to look at is also what makes it beautiful. Mortality is that particular aspect of humanity we prefer to acknowledge and dismiss until seemingly inevitable. Mansfield examines this inherent fragility with eloquent candor.
It was in that spirit of unknown endings, that I picked up my camera to self document the catharsis of my own cancer treatment. No one was there when these pictures were made, just my dissolving ideas of self and a camera. And what began as a story that could have ended in many ways, this chapter, like my treatment, has now run its course. While I can’t say everything is fine now, I will say, “These are the images of my Home – as it was then”, and with a little luck, there will be no more to come.
As a photographer, I’ve spent most of my career looking deeply into the spaces we inhabit. The idea of Home – what it meant and how it felt, preoccupied my thinking. Almost all my pictures were of the spaces we live in or the things we live with. But at the age of 31, a diagnosis of breast cancer forced me to redefine my ideas of home.
See the rest of Mansfield’s Aftermath series at www.kerrymansfield.com