Carolyn and Sara

CAROLYN, Santa Barbara, California, 1977
Black and white photograph created with 120 film, 20” x 20”, Artist’s Collection

Carolyn was a concert pianist born, and raised on a farm in rural Oklahoma. She and her husband, Michael, were dear friends in Santa Barbara. I hadn’t seen her in many years. As I was preparing this exhibition, I received word that she died. In this photo, she sits in her pajamas at the breakfast table of her renovated adobe house. She wears the frowning mask. It fits her somber mood. The photo is a disturbing mirror I don’t care to look into. However, it also reminds me that when she walked onto a concert stage dressed in evening clothes, and sat down at the Steinway piano, she wore another mask entirely. If the mask is a mirror revealing human moods, it has the capacity to shift rapidly between the dark and the light, and back again. Carolyn is very much alive in this photo, a memorial to our friendship.

SARA, New York City, 2023
Digital color print, 20” x 20”,
Artist’s Collection

Sara is a psychotherapist, author and former actor. She’s at home after preparing a Christmas dinner for a group of international friends, several of whom are accomplished musicians. She wears the smiley mask, and I’m aware that her smile emanates from deep within. In contrast to Carolyn, her table is bright and cheerful, warmed by the glow of candles and tulips. After dinner, there’ll be music, and everyone will try on the masks and afterwards sing. Wearing masks, Sara and the guests all looked so happy. Even the frowning mask transformed. That Christmas, I learned that masks make music.