The Spring Summer bespoke collection was inspired by Cynthia’s grandmother Celia and the special stories she used to share with her about working in a photography studio.
Celia took her camera with her wherever she went, and she documented everything. She created thousands of photographs. She neatly organized them and tucked them away in any spare drawer and on every closet shelf. She kept stacks of them wrapped in handkerchiefs and old greeting card boxes. She featured her favourites inside picture books, all held in with black paper photo corners. A glimpse of her gratitude for life was glued on the pages in black and white.
Celia worked downtown as a photographer’s assistant in the 1930’s. Women had fought for the right to vote and had just won it. Work outside of domestic life for women was rare and coveted; she understood she had to work twice as hard for less than half the pay of a man, but she took it in stride. Things will only get better, she thought, and women will be viewed for the whole humans and souls they are.
Celia had a gift for handpainting colour onto black and white photographs. She painted grey cheeks rosy. She turned charcoal fields green. Someday, she thought, we will be able to print colour photographs of everyday life.
Celia printed photographs by hand in the darkroom. Each one was started with a ray of light shining down through a negative onto a blank piece of white paper. A row of trays lined the darkroom table, each with its own special chemical mixture. The first developing tray was the most exciting, as that was the birthplace of the image appearing on the paper. Slowly, the image started to appear, beginning in faded greys, then burgeoning into black and white hues. The subjects in the composition came to life. It was a magical and hopeful process each and every time she printed a photograph.
Celia made photographs and documented life because she was keenly aware of its temporal nature. She saw the beauty in everyday moments, and she used photography to redeem and celebrate them. The magic and hope found in the creation of an image and savouring life through it was never lost on her. Like the creative process she loved, Celia was a ray of light.
In memory of Celia and all of the grandmother figures in our lives that inspire us to live a life with hope and gratitude.
