Me & Us

When I was little, my brothers were gone and my parents and I were sitting by the fire and I said “Ah, it’s just me and us.” I still sleep in my parents’ bed sometimes. Although it is taboo, I don’t think there will ever be an age where I stop. It is my warm, calm, safe haven. I am an adult child – a lot of the time too scared to face reality and responsibilities. But the relationship goes both ways; being empty-nesters, my parents often beg me to sleep with them. No matter how problematic it may be, I love the fact that we comfort each other’s emotional anxieties. I love my parents so much.

60 Minute Silence

This video installation uses Gillian Wearings “60 Minute Silence” as a point of departure. I stood with my partner for one hour in silence, holding hands, while the camera ran. Through the looped video, the viewer sees the struggle of standing still for so long, hand movements and fidgeting, all the while continuing to grasp hands. It’s a peek into a relationship, a portrait of two people that have an obvious connection. We are life sized, and make direct eye contact with the camera, creating some discomfort with the relationship to the viewer, but also a sense of allowing them to sit with the installation for a while.

A Video to Margarita

These are video stills from A Video to Margarita, which is made up of found family videos and audio that illustrate the experience of my father coming to Canada. This audio becomes somewhat of a video diary to his family in Venezuela and can be seen as a response to Venezuela’s current and ongoing political crisis.

Sarah Hernandez

But she never said…

These are stills from a video about the text messages my mom sends me. Since we do not call or see each other in person very often, we usually communicate through text. The texts presented are written in lipstick and the video includes audio of a lipstick tube being opened and closed. The sound of the lipstick tube represents the sound I associate my mom with, and in this instance, it stands in for her voice.

But she never said I love you, 2019.
Jennifer Zhao