Several photos show animal masks and their construction materials. A twisted pretzel of arms and hands across a table hints at a kitchen whose food utility has long since been taken over by arts and crafts. At the other extreme of proximity, a visual subcurrent of celestial objects pulls attention to distant gravitational effects.īolongaro captures and combines all of this material in ever-shifting permutations, with Charlotte (and perhaps Guy too, although he is never shown before the camera) scrambling to keep a lid on the boil. There’s even a gymnastics routine on an airplane. The settings sometimes branch out to parks, day hikes, and urban streets. Many of their father’s photos capture their blurred limbs tearing through rooms. In any case, young Ivor and Rudy appear to have the run of the roost. Perhaps this was a pandemic condition, or it might be chronic. Toys rest on most flat surfaces, while nearby crafts, books, and stickers are always at the ready. Their domicile is relaxed and kid-friendly, close to a childhood paradise as far as I can tell. Nevertheless, the Bolongaro family seems to be in fine working order. That may be a startling opinion from a photographer focused on his children. The last century has shown that the family is in breakdown – it’s very brittle, unsafe really, it perpetuates inequalities and oppression and is a hothouse for neuroses and dysfunction.” “My social work really compounded my deep ambivalence about the family,” he told British Photography Journal recently. But the primary protagonists are his son Ivor, daughter Rudy, and besieged wife Charlotte.īolongaro is a social worker by trade, with a commensurate openness to alternative choices and lifestyles, as well as some qualms. All of these subjects make appearances in the series, sometimes airborne and other times grounded. And if childish highjinx inspire similar behavior in nearby animals, clothing, hair, lamps, moons, rocks, candles, fruit, and shadows, that’s fine too. If kids want to float airborne, his series shrugs, that’s their own business. Its title is borrowed from a 1959 lyric penned by Ivor Cutler, who claimed “the theory of gravity is a lot of nonsense.” A spurious assertion perhaps, but one which Bolongaro makes no effort to disprove. The resulting state of chaos forms the backdrop for Bolongaro’s recent boxed folio Gravity Begins At Home. As pandemic restrictions forced the Bolongaros indoors, such events spilled over from summer into all other months. Judging by Guy Bolongaro’s photographs, his kids have spent a good portion of the past two years bouncing off the walls. At some point you can expect explosive results, with the exact dynamics beyond easy prediction. Confining them indoors is the rough equivalent of cramming wolverines into a milk crate. Kids possess enormous stores of potential energy. For those with prepubescent children-ages 6 to 12ish, say- it also brings a kinetic dimension. The domestic sphere might provide newfound room for companionship, conversation, and development. The academic year comes to a close, and with the flip of a calendar page, kids transfer their base of daily activity from school to home. Comments/Context: This time of year can be exciting for parents.
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