Assignment 2 Head hunting my mother
For my collection I decided to hunt heads in a humorous manner similar to that of Martin Parr. My willing victim was my elderly mother my mother who has modelled for me on many occasions - she is used to doing so and is very co-operative. Also, she is usually available as I still live at home. I made use of costumes most especially hats – in a photo from Parr's web site (1) he appears alongside a man wearing a Roman soldier costume. Martin Parr puts his own head in all sorts of peculiar places such as in the mouth of a shark or superimposed on a body buidler (1)– I have a sister who likes these sort of photos and she searches for naked pictures supposedly of George Clooney to show her flatmate who likes him (I have myself never looked at one of these!).
The first photo is an 'ordinary' photo of my mother just to show I am not always cruel to her. It was taken in one of our favourite eateries in Belfast– the Harlem- and was unposed. The muted light through the shutter is soft and affectionate – I was taught this technique by Louise Gallagher in a GCSE Art and Design (photography) class.
The second photo is my favourite as I love the fascinator I bought for very little money in the Heart Foundation charity shop, Castle St., Belfast, specifically for use as a prop. Mother looks elegant and haughty in this shot. I took the photos in our conservatory on a sunny day when the light was bright and harsh so I closed all the blinds and at one stage I put up extra cover behind her.
The third photo is my mother wearing a witches' hat with her right hand like a claw and a wicked look in her eye – she acted the part quite well I thought. I got the hat to be worn normally on one day a year – Halloween - this is enthusiastically celebrated in Ireland as it was invented by us Celts. I wear it when the children come to trick or treat and I give them sweets.
The fourth photo is mother wearing my Austrian skiing hat which was a Christmas present from one of my brothers – he bought it at the Belfast Christmas Markets, traders come from all over Europe June included. She looks sad in this one – she knows she has dementia.
The fifth photo is mother wearing my favourite summer hat which I have to wear because I am fair skinned. Her face is deeper in shadow than with the other hats and this increases her melancholic expression.
My final photo is the most funny of them all I think as there are not many 74 year olds who would be seen wearing pink headphones (mine) whilst carrying an ipod (mine) and she does a joyful expression really well. Also, see the poem below regarding her purple jumper and her purple American quilt.
In conclusion I enjoyed this assignment and my mother did also.These images remind me of a hilarious poem I have read and heard about a lady who decides when she is old she is going to misbehave by wearing purple (2) – this was read out to us at the Alzheimer's singing for the brain workshop where everyone has a good laugh - so growing old is not necessarily sad and I enjoy looking after my mother.
Warning
When
I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
By
Jenny
Joseph
References
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