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Work Samples

Memory Foam (trailer)

Memory Foam, Single Channel Video with Stereo Sound, 4'32", 2021. This clip serves as a trailer for a longer film (12'41") called Memory Foam. A hybrid work combining black and white photographs with sound, Memory Foam depicts a journey through an imaginary house that is a composite of interior views from twenty-six different homes. The audio, composed by Jason Sloan, is drawn from the electromagnetic sounds emanating from the light source depicted in each frame. *Please use headphones when viewing in order to get the full impact of the sound.

Summer Camp 1937, 2020

Summer Camp 1937, from the series In a Matter of Time, 2020-present. Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 23 x 18 1/2 inches. Recently, while rummaging through family photographs, I discovered a collection of tightly rolled photographic scrolls originally taken with a large format banquet camera. I decided to strategically unfurl and rotate these scrolls, sometimes lighting both the front and back of the image, in order to explore different relationships between the printed image and signatures on the back as well as between the presence of people and nature.

Lifeline 95.04.05

Lifeline 95.04.05, 1994-present. Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 18 1/2 x 23 inches. The generation and conveyance of energy is a fundamental concern in my photographs of electric cords, a series that I have been pursuing for over two decades. At least one of the cables shown in the image carries the electricity to the light source that illuminates the scene. Like the activity of drawing which employs line and shading, the cable changes its identity from a crisp line to a faint trace as if it was a ray, wave, particle, halo or flare of light.

Lookout No. 46.

Lookout No. 46, from the series Lookout, 1988-2020, Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 23 x 18 1/2 inches. This photograph is part of a collection of over one hundred images depicting windows. Each window provides a glimpse into how we live in proximity to other people and nature, and how we strike a balance between our desire for contact, concern for security, and the need for privacy.

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About Lynn

Baltimore City

Lynn Silverman's picture
Lynn Silverman uses photography and video as ways of harnessing light to forge connections between places and people.  Observing the effect of light and time on everyday surfaces and objects,  in search of more nuanced relationships between light and dark, outside and inside, nature and culture, is the heart of her photography.   Teaching and pursuing her work on three different continents has had a significant impact on Silverman’s practice.  Depending on where she is living at... more

Stills from Memory Foam, 2019-2021

The photographs represented in this collection are drawn from the longer version of Memory Foam, which now runs for 12’42”.  Expanding the film allowed for a more in depth exploration of the home including, for example, the presence of animals, plants, and the extensive infrastructure found in the basements of many houses.  The appearance of digital technology shows how our personal environment is increasingly mediated by technology and, especially during the pandemic, has become a way of connecting with others.

Memory Foam - Painting and Pillow, 2021

This photograph is composited from two stills that appear in the video Memory Foam.

Glassworks, 2021-present

Glassworks is a working title for a new series of photographs exploring the narrative potential of glass objects.  Rummaging through collections of glassware found in thrift stores, I am drawn to pieces that depict a picture or a word such as “painkiller”.  Embedded in the surface of the bottle like an intaglio print, these images and words suggest possible stories and how these objects may interact with other glassware depicted in the photograph.  In Searching for a Northwest Passage, a schooner tossed about by the waves is illuminated along with the other bottles whose edges are blurred by the reflected light.

In a Matter of Time, 2020-present

Recently, while sorting through boxes of family photographs with a view to culling the collection of images, I discovered an assortment of tightly rolled scrolls.  These scrolls, depicting groups of campers, school children, and adults arranged around banquet tables, were taken decades ago with a large format camera fitted with a wide-angle lens.
 
Back in the studio, I began to strategically unfurl and rotate these scrolls, sometimes lighting both the front and back of the image, as a way of revealing simultaneously the photograph and autographs scribbled on the back.  Any trees included in the picture were also of interest, suggesting ways of manipulating the scroll to emphasize their presence.
 
Given the relationship a photograph inevitably has with the past, my desire is to focus on the act of remembering.  The contortions of the scrolls—the twisting, curling, and blurring during exposure—mirror the fragility of memory.  My manipulation of the scrolls attempts to evoke how the gap between the photograph and memory continues to widen as the time when the scroll was taken recedes further into the past.  It becomes virtually impossible to connect a signature with a person or indeed provide a narrative for some of the situations.  These individuals, who have long since passed, are destined to reside forever in a world of sport stadiums, sumptuous table settings, and forests as the actual photographs face an uncertain future.

Lifelines, 1994-present

The generation and conveyance of energy is a fundamental concern in my photographs depicting electric cords, a series that I have been pursuing for over two decades.  At least one of the cables shown in the image carries the electricity to the light source that illuminates the scene.  Like the activity of drawing which employs line and shading, the cable changes its identity from a crisp line to a faint trace as if it was a ray, wave, particle, halo or flare of light.  The narrative aspect of the cord’s trajectory and the use of everyday materials impart a palpable quality to the light.  My rendering of the cord is a way of giving life to light.

Lookout, 1988-2020

The windows depicted in Lookout were photographed in the United States, Great Britain, Australia, and the Czech Republic, countries where I lived for an extended period of time.  Numbering over one hundred images, this series is a collection of observations into how we live in proximity to other people and nature, and how we strike a balance between our desire for contact, concern for security, and the need for privacy.

  • Lookout No. 03

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 18 1/2 x 23 inches
  • Lookout No. 16

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 18 1/2 x 23 inches
  • Lookout No. 21

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 23 x 18 1/2 inches
  • Lookout No. 29

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 23 x 18 1/2 inches
  • Lookout No. 41

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 23 x 18 1/2 inches
  • Lookout No. 42

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative 23 x 18 1/2 inches
  • Lookout No. 48

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 23 x 18 1/2 inches
  • Lookout No. 54

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative 23 x 18 1/2 inches
  • Lookout No 73

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 18 1/2 x 23 inches
  • Lookout No. 114

    Black and white gelatin silver print from medium format negative, 18 1/2 x 23 inches

Lynn's Curated Collection

This artist has not yet created a curated collection.