Tag Archive for: Fine Art Photography

A Surprise Commission: Honoring Memories and Letting Go

A Surprise Commission: Honoring Memories and Letting Go

Everlasting Memory

Everlasting Melody

Sylvias China Stack of five tea cups on saucers

Sylvias China

Unforgettable Legacy

Unforgettable Legacy

One night, I was sitting around a fire pit in a cozy little town in Louisiana, chatting with friends and watching the flames dance in the cool evening air. Among the familiar faces, we were also getting to know some new friends. As conversations tend to go, we started talking about my art and the upcoming launch of my website. I didn’t think much of it at the time—it was just part of the night’s discussions.

A few days later, to my surprise, I received a phone call from one of the neighbors who had been at the fire pit that evening. She had something on her mind and wanted to talk to me about a special project. Her mother had passed down a complete set of gorgeous bone china, a set that had meant the world to her. But no one in the family—neither her daughters nor her sisters—wanted it. She couldn’t bring herself to just give it away or toss it out, not when it held so much sentimental value. So, she asked if I could photograph the china for her, to preserve its memory before she found it a new home. That way, even if she let the physical set go, she would always have those images to remember it by.

I was deeply touched by her request and agreed immediately. We spent time talking about her mother, her life, and the memories wrapped up in that delicate china set. When I arrived at her home to take the photos, she had lovingly laid out the pieces, along with other items that had been part of her mother’s life. The china was truly beautiful, its fine details speaking to an era where such things were treasured. I could sense not just the elegance of the dishes, but the deep attachment they held for this woman and her family.

It struck me then how powerful objects can be—how they hold memories, connect us to the past, and anchor us to those we’ve loved. I understood why she wanted to preserve the essence of these objects through photography, and I also understood the conflict she felt. Her daughters didn’t want the set, and she was worried about what would happen to it after she passed. So much of why we hold onto things comes down to memory, legacy, and the stories we tell ourselves. And yet, there’s also the need to let go—to release things so they don’t become a burden for our loved ones.

With all of this in mind, I set out to capture not just the beauty of the china, but the spirit of the memories behind it. I spent the day arranging the pieces, carefully crafting images that would honor her mother and the cherished moments this set had seen. I wanted the photographs to feel like a tribute—something that would allow her to keep the memories alive, even as she found the courage to let the objects go.

When the session was over, I returned home and worked diligently on the images, pouring my heart into each one. A few days later, we met again, and I shared the finished photos with her. Her response was overwhelming—emotional for both of us. She loved the images so much that she decided to purchase every single one. Not only that, but she wanted to create prints for her daughters and sisters, sharing the legacy in a new way with them.

It was one of the most heartfelt commissions I’ve ever done. I was honored to help her preserve these precious memories and, in a small way, help her find peace in letting go. I hope that every time she looks at the images, she’s reminded of her mother, the love they shared, and the warmth of those memories.

Isn’t that the true power of art? To connect us to our past, to help us honor what was, and to let us release what no longer needs to be held onto—while allowing the memories to live on in a new and meaningful way.

How Spoons Inspired My Fine Art Photography

I’m frequently asked, “Why spoons?” when people explore the subject matter of my fine art photo series. It’s not as apparent as the black and white Tool images I crafted from the tools in my Dad’s garage after he passed away, or the series I dedicated to my mom, called the Faith Collection. So, let me take you back to the origins of this spoon fascination.

As a professional food photographer, I work with an array of props. I find myself in numerous kitchens, conversing with chefs and owners while awaiting dishes to be cooked, plated, and prepped for photography. During these moments of observation, I witness the authentic behind-the-scenes action without the embellishment of editing and retakes. What I see are individuals who have their favorites: a cherished spot in the kitchen, well-worn pots, and, of course, cherished knives. All these tools have been shaped by countless hours of use, likely in a multitude of ways. As a quiet observer in these scenarios, I’m drawn to the unique motions and rhythms of work in progress. Every person is distinctive, and every gesture is meaningful. This isn’t a delicate dance with delicate objects; it’s a vigorous, hands-on engagement with battered and well-used tools, both the person creating in the kitchen and the objects within it.

It was during these moments that my curiosity was piqued, and I developed a deep fascination with what these items looked like after years of wear and tear. I realized that I was witnessing the history of these objects in a way that words couldn’t possibly capture. But a photograph – a photograph could convey the essence of this wear and tear, the enduring story of their use. Photos can immortalize the scars, dents, and the aging process that occurs in items with a long history. From these long days spent in the kitchens of talented chefs, the Culinary Imaginings Series was born…

And then, there came a moment of decision.

I chose to play favorites. Yes, as an artist, I have that privilege. So, what’s my favorite kitchen item? Spoons. Why? For one, they are the perfect companions for ice cream, not to mention their role in preparing a soothing cup of tea, gently stirring in hot pots of water. And what about those thick soups like clam chowder or my mom’s French onion soup, which provide warmth and comfort on chilly days? Life without a spoon would indeed be challenging. The truth is, there are countless “Forgotten Spoons” out there, and I seem to spot them everywhere I go. This led to my obsession with collecting them, and the more battered they are, the more I cherish them. I’ve become enamored with the Wabi-Sabi of the spoon – the beautiful, colorful array of tarnish.

Wait….

Can tarnish be my favorite color? I believe it is…

Galaxies

Galaxies: A fine art photograph from the worn spoon project by Donna Dufault