The Garden of Maggie Victoria explores memory and female representation through the story of my great-grandmother, forgotten within my family after her premature death in 1943.
I first learned about Maggie Victoria in January 2022 as I dug through family archives. Her face emerged from a set of photos mostly captured by her husband – my great-grandfather Frank a keen amateur photographer – in Lancashire, England. Wanting to revive my great-grandmother’s legacy, I integrated those images, archival letters and other found materials with my own nature-oriented photographs made in Vancouver, where I live.
Following a fast-moving illness, Maggie Victoria took her last breath during wartime, aged only 56. As was often the way, Frank quickly re-married, and no one talked about her after that – not even her children. Maggie Victoria’s story was thus erased for decades, but through the archives I got to know her as a mother, wife, proud gardener and – importantly – a woman.
Many of the images Frank made of his wife show her in domestic settings. This series reworks scans of those images with my own photographs tracking the changing seasons, in distant Canada. By adding layers, primarily via digital collage, my goal is to connect with Maggie Victoria, and question the male gaze cementing her role.
My use of colour seeks to echo her life stages and experiences. In combining my contemporary images with the archival monochrome images I aim to compare two contrasting time periods and reflect on the changing nature of photography.
This project is an attempt to render Maggie Victoria “visible”, and a call to women to take up space. In recovering these images from disorganized piles, I have sought to construct new visual narratives from old stories. Further, in discussing this project, others have shared with me their own familial tale of loss, mystery or secrecy. Anchored in a personal meditation, the series invites us to consider issues of heritage, grief and the passing of time affecting us all.
