Joana P. Cardozo
A silent piano, scattered cymbals in the music room, high heels in the walking-in closet, faded dead flowers still releasing a sweet smell, toys fighting each other in the basement, crucifixes, fruit-shaped candles, smoke, incense, lace and saints. “Blueprints” gravitates towards the notion that our home is the reflection of ourselves. Instead of conventional portraiture, I reveal the personalities of my subjects by depicting the contents of their homes. “Blueprints” do resemble architectural floor plans; however, they are in fact an unusual form of portrait. Like a mirror, a home reflects the identity of their inhabitants. I enter. I pick objects. I remove them from their places. I place them in front of a light source. I create a new object. I photograph such creation. I put the object back. The shadow is gone. It is now a photograph. The choice of each specific item is my way of illustrating aspects of my subject‘s life. Diane Arbus once said, “The contents of somebody’s bathroom is like reading their biography.” “Blueprints” do not depict my subjects faces, hands, or likenesses—still, they are a reflection of each person. It is indeed like reading their biography.