We work like squirrels, accumulating photos of material culture wherever we go and staging found objects in our studio. We use those photos later, sometimes years later, in projects we had never originally imagined.
We approach everyday objects and spaces with curiosity and playfulness, like cats discovering a sofa. Play—the nearly magical, childlike ability to engage in sense-making without the weight of logic—is the cornerstone of our duo collaboration. Play allows us to transfigure banality into poetry.
Everything we make is done by both of us together. Either of us can take the initiative or change what the other has done. This collaborative and iterative process is not smooth, like processing images with two brains and trying to focus objects with impossible optical constraints. In that respect, our photography is also a long, drawn-out autobiographical selfie of the inexhaustible depth and complexity of the relationship between a parent and an adoptive child who are also an artist duo. We have come to embrace the way this iterative tension defines our work.