Nazraeli Press / Todd Hido
designed with Todd Hido
As Larissa Archer writes on Huffpost, Silver Meadows isn’t about Todd Hido’s past, but about his imperfect, highly-influenced re-experiencing of it: the strange pinkish snow, the house remembered through streaks of rain across a windshield, and the women whose distinctions have slipped from memory in favor of the hardier associations with cliché. Studying the photographs that comprise it might cause you to wonder how you will remember your own life, which elements will stick in the memory, which will change according to mood and impression, and which will take on the flat sub-realism of metaphor.
In her essay, The Vicinity of Narrative, Katya Tylevich writes, Hido speaks of his works in the language of memory, so that the holes and patches of an image are inherent to its finished composition. These are the rhythms of poetry or even pop songs, I think, as opposed to those of a novel. If Hidos photographs create a hierarchy, its one in which plot ranks lower than atmosphere, and the topography of an American suburb the fake wood paneling, the dated floral sheets somehow mimics the furrows and expressions of the human face.
16.5 x 13.375 inches
108 pages with 4 double gatefolds