“Because They Lived and Live, I Live”
{Photography & Items Installation}
All of us are said to have an ego. A sense of self. An idea that we are an independent autonomous island. But the reality is that we are all dependent on one another. Even our body came from our parents and our grandparents and great grandparents and every single ancestor before them.
It could be argued that our soul came from somewhere else, but in our earthly experience we all accept we have life because our biological parents got together, and their parents got together and on and on. Because of those ‘ancestors’ gone before us, we now live.
These are some of my ancestors and this is my small attempt to venerate them or acknowledge their value in giving me my life today.
My great-great grandmother, Elizabeth Sentence (1858-1934) ~ Restored version
My mum as a baby, Dorothy Neal (1940-present)
My grandad, David Banks (1905-1979)
My nan, Jennie Banks – nee Mansfield (1912-1994)
My dad as a boy, Raymond Banks (1937-present)
My great-great grandmother, Elizabeth Sentence (1858-1934) ~ Glass Ambrotype version
My grandad, Charles Clifford Neal (1902-1944)
My grandma, Emily Chappell (1901-1968)
My great great grandad, Robert Rose (1843-1923)
My great grandma, Emily Betsey Rose (1872-1923)
My great grandad, Thomas Chappell (1869-1945)
Learning about the lives and deaths of our ancestors can give us pause for thought. I have many ancestors who died young, some of which are not featured here as I have no photos of them.
Not long after photography was invented in the mid-1800s, it soon became a popular methodology to preserve the memory of someone that had died. Indeed, even now, all these years later, don’t we still think of photos as where we store our memories?
The small brass frame and photo in this display is named an Ambrotype and is from the 1860s. At this early time of photography, images were created on the glass. This frame has been passed down in my family with the tiny photo of my own father as a child (born 1937). Only recently did I take it apart and discover the glass image of a person revealed behind it. I had the glass photo restored, and ‘she’ was revealed. Based on her clothing we determined she was around this age in the 1860s and we were able to predict that she is my great great grandmother, Elizabeth Sentance. Seeing her face and looking into her eyes, I felt grateful for her and the life she passed onto me.
Now, with the rise in interest in family history and DNA we can learn more about our ancestors and their lives to inspire us in how we live our life and to remind us that one day we all shall indeed die, and hopefully be remembered by our descendants.
The small silver brooch has also been ‘passed down’ in my family, on my mother’s side. I’ve never opened it, but was told it has a lock of my grandma’s hair inside, following the age-old mourning custom of previous generations. Perhaps they didn’t know about DNA but did they know hair carried something of the actual person to remember them by?
As my bright red hair fades in the aging light, I scurried to save some at my last ‘haircut’ appointment. It is hanging in the locket pendant. What will happen to it, to my DNA? Will anyone want to keep my hair? In my own case, I don’t have any descendants so what of my life’s impact will be left behind?
Perhaps just my house full of stuff?