JTF (just the facts): Co-published in 2024 by Editorial RM (here), PHREE (here) and Ediciones Posibles (here). Hardcover (20 x 28 cm), 80 pages, with 37 black-and-white photographs. Includes a short text by the artist. Design by Ramon Pez. (Cover and spread shots below.)
Comments/Context: Ruth Lauer Manenti received an MFA in painting and drawing from the Yale School of Art in 1994. But it wasn’t until decades later, in 2012, that she picked up photography, after she was given a large format camera and then taught herself how to use it. Since traumatically breaking her neck in a car crash at the age of twenty, Manenti has developed a spiritual life that has propelled much of her ongoing artistic practice.
Manenti’s new photobook, I Imagined It Empty, was inspired by a series of photographs she made of her mother just before she died. In the years prior, her mother had never wanted to be photographed, but Manenti persisted, and just before her death, she finally agreed. In that brief period, Manenti took ten photographs, and all of them seemed to be memorably rich and resonant. “Each day as she approached her death, she became more beautiful.” Manenti’s mother was herself an artist, who left behind her own legacy of unknown work; in her practice, Manenti is determined “to reward her mother for her efforts and to create a continuum”. Her photobook won the 3rd edition of the Star Photobook Dummy Award, and was shortlisted for the Arles Author Book Award.
I Imagined It Empty is a relatively slim title, and it immediately feels intimate and tender. Its beige cloth cover features a photograph of a woman holding a piece of white fabric, her head out of frame. The title appears on a thin white strip, in all caps, debossed at the top of the image. Inside, the black-and-white photographs vary slightly in their sizes, and usually appear on the right side of the spreads surrounded by a generous amount of white space. There are no captions, page numbers, or any other design elements, directing our attention entirely to the visual flow. And the book easily lays flat, making the interaction even more deliberate and enjoyable.
Manenti’s elemental photographs feature her mother and the house, each picture relatively small and personal. The photographs document various parts of the house, focusing on modest domestic objects, like fruit, silverware, and kitchen utensils, and also on the work done around the house, like cleaning and drying dishes. Pictures of the ocean also appear throughout the book, adding another layer of calmness. The opening image finds the artist’s mother lying in bed, with her eyes closed. The photograph that follows captures a beret hanging on a string, pinned with a clothespin; slightly out of focus and fading, and lit with natural light, it feels haunted and eerie. In another image, three pears and three glasses are drying on a white kitchen towel placed on a table, reducing the setup down to refined simplicity.
The portraits of the artist’s mother are consistently lovely. In one, she is seen in profile – her hair is snow white, her eyes are closed, and her hands rest on her chest, creating a feeling of peaceful softness. In another image, the artist, barefoot and in white clothes, appears gently sweeping the floor with a broom. This is followed by two photographs, placed together vertically, depicting two apples on the table, shot from slightly different angles. A couple of pages later, a row of glass bottles almost dissolves with the background, another beautifully haunting photograph.
Manenti’s images look deceptively simple, full of light and texture, almost resembling drawings. She masterfully expresses deep spirituality through humble items, through everyday objects that are utterly unremarkable. An echoing human presence is felt through pots, spoons, glasses, chairs, fruits, jars, bottles, towels, and other objects found in the household. By focusing on things that are commonplace, she brings attention to the functional objects that are used everyday, yet are often overlooked. Manenti says about her work, “I am making images that illuminate fragility and survival as a tangible presence, through the use of everyday objects and natural light. Like a poem made up of verses, I view the world in layers, quietly suggesting a story that rekindles an affection for what was, is, or can be.”
The very last photograph in the book is covered by a piece of white paper with a short text by the artist, explaining that she wanted to make a strong body of work to honor her mother and to create a continuum. She also pays tribute to her house, built in 1940 in the Catskill Mountains. “While creating this work, I had the sense that all people in my life, still here or not, live with me in my house.” The photograph under the piece of paper offers an image of the house attached to a surface, creating a full circle. The house is full of history, and each object carries a sense of belonging and the memories of loved ones.
Manenti’s series brings to mind a number of notable projects that have documented family relationships. Most recently, Paul Graham created a tender portrait of his elderly mother in a photobook simply titled Mother, and Polish photographer Aleksandra Żalińska created a tender series of her grandmother in her book But Please Be Careful Out There (reviewed here). I Imagined It Empty is an excellent addition to this conversation.
As an artistic project, I Imagined It Empty is lyrically beautiful, poetic and deeply intimate, and Manenti says that part of the reason the project is successful is because her mother was a full participant. Her delicate black-and-white photographs deliver an undeniable feeling of tenderness and care, while the format of the book encourages slow looking. Together with excellent production and printing details, the book stands out as a beautiful art object, and one of the strongest photobooks published this year.
Collector’s POV: Ruth Lauer Manenti does not appear to have consistent gallery representation at this time. As a result, interested collectors should likely follow up directly with the artist via her website (linked in the sidebar).