Diana Markosian reflects on thorny family dynamics and the transformative power of photography

Like raindrops on a glass lake, Diana Markosiannew book of, Dad, in this case the ripples that radiate outward with the consequences of intergenerational decisions. Released by Aperture this month, ahead of a solo exhibition of Markosian’s work at National Portrait Gallery in London, Dad tells the story of Maroksian’s journey to rebuild the relationship with her father after 15 years of separation. The rekindling was defined by personal decisions both past and recent – including her mother’s move with Markosian and her brother from their hometown of Moscow to Santa Barbara, California, leaving behind their father, and Markosian and her brother followed him in Armenia 15 years later. Through a Markosian lens, readers get a glimpse, specifically from a girl’s perspective, of what this kind of relationship might look like and rewriting the story of a meaningful life. What does it mean? Dad, taken over 10 years, includes photographs taken by Markosian—poetic scenes of her with her father at his kitchen table, portraits of him in which he appears to be falling into blurred and blurred scenes , and still lifes in his home—as well as an archive of images from her childhood, and letters her father wrote to various U.S. government officials in the hope of finding his children, all All are strung together by Markosian’s own diary writing.

Here, Markosian talks about her decision to turn this intimate aspect of her life into art.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

Vanity Fair: At what point in your life did you think, I will find my father, meet him, get to know him? Do you plan to do the work during that process, or is that something that happens afterward?

Diana Markosian: I didn’t even know I was saying goodbye to my dad when I saw him for the last time. So the idea of ​​looking for him did not exist. When I was a child, I often asked, “Where is Dad?” My mother would just say, “Forget him. He’s gone.” It feels like a real cut. I can completely understand why my mother would want to do that. What I really want to focus on is the daughter’s story, focusing on the truth. It’s not about blaming the parents, it’s just the experience you were left with as a child being between these two people.

As an adult, I was really scared to meet him. I don’t know who I will find, because I no longer have any sense of him. Over the years, my memory of him faded to the point where I couldn’t remember what he looked like. I forgot, I really forgot. So when my brother and I knocked on his door, I didn’t even recognize him. It’s not that I feel like I see a father, I don’t know who this man is.

He also didn’t recognize my brother and me. After we explained to him who we were, he said, “What took you so long?” After that first day, it was probably six months before I decided to go back to the camera, start getting to know him and try to understand who this man was to me.

by Diana Markosian.

Therefore, choosing to take photos is a way to help you gain a different understanding.

I am very grateful to photography because I think without this art, without this medium, I would never exist. This not only gave me strength but also gave me courage and it gave me a record of our time together. We hadn’t seen each other in two decades, and this allowed me to create positive memories, while also ushering in a braver version of myself, one who could cope with difficult things. . So I say this knowing it’s so cliché, but without photography I wouldn’t be so open.

by Diana Markosian.