Left Behind

Around the time I started getting serious about photography, I went to see an exhibition of Annie Leibovitz photographs titled “Pilgrimage.” The exhibit did not include the kinds of images Annie is best known for—portraits of (mostly) famous people. Pilgrimage was a series of photos about historical figures Annie was drawn to. They were of interior personal spaces, original working documents and records, and personal belongings. There was a close-up of Emily Dickinson’s sole surviving dress. A top-down photo of Virginia Wolfe’s scarred and ink-stained desk. Sigmund Freud’s couch. Eleanor Roosevelt’s hideaway cottage. A specimen collected by Charles Darwin on the voyage of The Beagle.

The prints were huge and they were breathtaking. By the time I left my heart was pounding. I had never seen photos like that before, and I was intrigued with the idea of trying to capture the essence of someone long gone by photographing some of their personal possessions and the spaces where they spent their time.

I could tell a human story about every photo in this collection—some based in fact, others more fanciful. The first photo in the collection is of my mother’s wedding dress, along with jewelry she wore frequently. The dress is particularly meaningful to me and to family members since my dad was a pilot in China towards the end of World War II, and her wedding dress was made from his parachute. The second photo is of an old, battered straw suitcase that was purchased by my husband (an art lover) from the family of Joachim Probst. Probst was a talented 1950s Greenwich Village artist who hung out with other prominent artists at the time. He achieved some success through his years as an artist, but was generally overshadowed by his peers—particularly one of his best friends, Franz Kline.

“I am convinced that the greatest legacy we can leave our children are happy memories.” - Og Mandino

I hope one or two of the images touch a fond memory or feeling left for you by others in your life.