Disease transmission can be broadly classified as direct or indirect. I’m sure most people
would find either mode equally frightening.
One person’s sneeze expels 40,000 droplets
into the air that contain the genetic material
of, say, the influenza virus. Some forms of that
virus can incapacitate an entire population. The
bite of a tiny vector like a mosquito that we
generally just deem an annoyance can transmit
a crippling microorganism that causes malaria.
Both situations are more than worrisome.
These “unseen” forces, both the modes of
transmission and the ability to replicate, stir significant apprehension and significant interest.
Our world is full of the “unknown”: Did that
person who just sneezed without covering her
mouth and nose disperse any virus that I’m now
breathing? Did the doorknob I just touched
transfer any bacteria to my hand that may infect
me?
What I don’t know and what I become exposed to (pun intended) keeps me actively engaged in seeking to understand the complexities
of disease. For example, how were we able to reconstruct the 1918 influenza virus? Some of this
was done with actual biological material from
that time. When did we obtain these samples
and where were they stored? Tissue samples
from that time had been preserved in paraffin
and stored in government facilities. Other tissue samples were obtained during the late 1990s
and early 2000s from the deceased buried in
Alaska and Norway, where the permafrost had
slowed down decomposition. And the natural
follow-up: could we see another outbreak of
Spanish flu? How would it affect today’s populations?
So fear, curiosity, and awe feed off one another. A question, an answer, a wondrous moment—and the cycle repeats.
MG: Your work is steeped in research. After discovering subject matter through current newspaper
headlines or a noteworthy historical event, you spend
a great deal of time gathering images. As you explain
in your artist statement, you then “alter, vet, and reject
[them] through an elaborate system designed to completely subvert and distort any likeness to the original
source.” Can you describe this process in more detail?
LF: One reason I began creating a “system” was
to thwart my “natural” hand and inclination to
work strictly in an orderly fashion. Over time, it
has become more complicated as I try to avoid
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making didactic work. Let me share an overview of the system I’ve created.
First, for me, gathering images is more than
collecting pictures. It includes photographs
and illustrations but also all my reading on the
subject—books, periodicals, or interviews—and
the resulting images evoked by that reading. I
document a history of each stray piece of data
and thought. This chronicling is an integral part
of the pursuit; a type of sorting begins to occur.
When we think of sorting, we immediately
think of logical organization using some type
of categories (i.e. transmission because of close
proximity, similar symptomatology, etc.). While
I participate in this methodology, I also expand the discourse to include the scientifically
incompatible (i.e. the folklore). I make mental catalogues and connections (i.e. between a
news campaign about clearing standing water