Abraham Pachikara - Artist's Statement

In the 4th grade, my father brought home a used Mamiya Sekor range-finder camera when he returned from a medical conference.  Better yet, he took time on the very day of his arrival to share his thoughts on how photos come to be.  And by chance, the elementary school of our small Mennonite prairie town had a camera club.  Since then, photography has been a persistent part of my journeys, like a slow burning ember that at times will burst into a flame before returning back to a quiet glow.

But why photography, rather than some other pursuit?  Well, nothing intrigues or delights me more than a photograph’s ability to help us “older folks” notice the nuances in life.  When humans are in their early youth, they are oblivious to time’s passage but do spend inordinate volumes of effort to notice details.  These young “kunduns” will ponder like philosophers, scrutinize like art critics, and dispassionately dismantle anything from food, to insects, to toys, hell bent on better understanding the essence of all the wondrous things around them.  As we grow, the progress and pace of ourselves and our loved ones rise in importance, and we notice less of the interwoven fabric that surrounds us.  The future worries us, the past dismays us and we ignore the current moment’s fleeting beauty and charm.

That is where still images come in.  A camera, a patient eye, a trigger finger and our intuition can arrest the inflection points of the day, preserving a moment’s essence into the uncharted future.  The upshot: when we look at a photo from say, 5  or 25 years ago, we cannot but help feel an emotion seep into our being, be it a smile, frown, or perhaps sadness.   We remember a moment seemingly unnoticed when it occurred.  A narrow element of the photo has served as a key and unlocked a memory deep in the sleepy or introverted corridors of our minds and hearts. It may be a distinctive smile, the cut of a dress, a faddish haircut, a long forgotten hangout, or the surrounding people.  These visual triggers dissolve one of many levees that trap our memories, and the stories come forth the way a flash flood surges across a parched plain.  In doing so, photos reaffirm the human landscape we are a part of.