objects, best relayed to the nursery or sadly, to the toy box? Can meticulously staged photos of dolls confront us with the same pain, the same joy, the same sense of sorrow or bliss as the aforementioned old photos found discarded in antique markets? Can these simulacra bring us the same catharsis? By capturing these moments of reality in an inanimate realm, I seek to create an experience that is both finite and eternal, banal and transcendental.

My desire as a collector and bona fide doll aficionado has been to see dolls not only as pristine and well-preserved documentations of a past era, but also as actively engaged individuals in a moment of life. There, in their eternal instant, they look at the camera and celebrate a birthday, a wedding, a serendipitous gathering with friends. In their professionally taken portraits, they remain perfectly groomed, for posterity, to show their children or grandchildren what they looked like when they were young, when they graduated from middle school, when they enlisted in the Navy. As children, we were capable of this type of animation or soul giving, and derived immense satisfaction from these instances of creation, as if perhaps, we were playing master creator and giving life. Or perhaps anticipating our own futures.

With a similar intention, I do not wish to present reality but rather aim to transform it in my photographs of dolls. In my images, the doll is a real person with dreams and desires, disappointments, flaws, and failures. Granted, he or she is perfectly coiffed and impeccably dressed, but who knows what lies behind the pretty façade?