"These ash-filled urns were photographed only because they remain unclaimed; they've been excluded from family plots and narratives. A viewer of these images might even be seeing the fate of an unknown relative, eclipsed, denied-treated like so much dust, eventually vanishing into the shells that held them." - from Library of Dust.
A fascinating and touching book of essays and photographs of copper canisters. The canisters hold the cremated remains of former mental hospital patients and were forgotten in a room in what is now a prison. The corroded canisters are all different, each encrusted in a patina of color and texture that speaks to the uniqueness of each individual inside. It's almost as if their spirits found a way to seep out through the copper and ask to be remembered.
I am a very passionate searcher of art books on extremely interesting and obscure topics. This book takes the cake for the last few years. David maisel has managed to find the most potent beauty and etherial presence rarely seen in a wholly humanly created object. The essay`s written throughout are done with the upmost sensitivity and intuitive perception of other dimensions. An incredible project!
So one thing to note? This book is oversized, really oversized..so don't ride your bike to the library to pick it up and think it's going to fit in your backpack--it won't.
These are photos from the Portland State Mental Hospital in Oregon, and most of photos are of the cremated remains, unclaimed by family or friend, of patients--housed in copper canisters that over the years (in some cases, over a hundred years)have corroded in incredible ways. "The irregularly sized copper canisters have a handmade quality: they are at turns burnished or dull: corrosion blooms wildly from the leaden seams of many of the cans. Numbers are stamped into each lid: the lowest number is 01, the highest 5,121." There are just a handful of photos of the place itself, peeling paint, abandoned stretchers--those could have been another book all together-