Edie Bresler

During a year-long illness, I spent a lot of time in bed looking at photography books. A series of vernacular anonymous nudes made between 1843-1910 entered my consciousness and made me restless. It wasn't just the finality of the title, “Anonymous” but wonder about the relationship between photographer and subject. When they disrobed in front of the camera, could they have imagined becoming part of a twentieth century art collection?

I found myself dreamily inventing backstories about what they might have looked like on another day outside the photographers studio.

Using a scanner I started digitally removing them from the original studio setting and then photographing an alternate environment. Sometimes I make up imaginary places using handmade emulsions like Van Dyke or Cyanotype. Hand sewn embroidery cloaks their body and entices a viewer to come in closer. I seek to foster a conversation beyond the "Anonymous" title. For me each unique print is an echo of the original, akin to a distant, imagined descendant.

As historian Eric Foner writes, "Who owns history? Everyone and no one, which is why the study of the past is a constantly evolving, never ending journey of discovery.”