ISO

Paradise (with his shadow) by Zoë Ghertner is about what we don’t see as much as we do see. Her piece, Paradise (with his shadow) as a part of Hard Copy New York, depicts a boy, smited by the sun, in a beach terrain. The photo has the strong lighting contrast of high noon. This, in combination with the countless black and white rescans, has distorted the lighting information and watermarked the photograph with faint, nearly invisible, vertical lines. The photograph’s indiscernible information fades away and is lost in the shadows, as well as blinding highlights that obscure and conceal the texture of the subject. The subject is a boy, or what we can assume is a boy from his buzzed hair and lanky build. Why must we assume the identity of this figure? Because his back is turned to us, us being the camera, and the hands that reach for him. 

 Although we don’t see the boy’s face, his figure fills the letter-sized frame. He is crouched with his arms propped on his knees, shielding his face. One may compare this to the familiar pose of a weeping child who does not want to be seen. Our eyes are drawn to the peak of his back, where the bend of his spine pulls his skin taut—turning his pale skin into a reflector for the sun. Despite the blown-out highlights that sand down the details of his body, we can just make out the curvature of his spine. 

Zoë Ghertner’s photograph is more than a representation of childhood memories of a hot summer day, for the boy is not alone in this image. The side of his back that is not brightly illuminated by the sun is covered by a shadow of a hand outstretched, reaching for him. The shadow is opaque and reserves a sizable part of his figure before blending into the shadows with his body. A second hand extends from the top left corner of the frame and hangs over the boy's head. This hand is not a shadow, but a thin, pale hand, quiet and obscure. Is the hand coming to comfort him and protect him from the darkness around him, or is the hand coming to take something from him, too? One may interpret the image as a boy shielding himself from the noon sun beating down on his body or a boy scared to tears by the darkness that terrorizes him. Both are familiarities associated with childhood. 
Paradise (with his shadow) lives and breathes with the familiarity of a memory once-lived. It echoes with the memory of scorching summer days–gasping for hot air to fill your lungs because the sweat of your brow is failing to keep you cool from the unforgiving sun, while also portraying the ever-present monsters and shadows that seem to always lurk behind corners. The only quick respite is hiding oneself. The image is duality–in lightness and darkness, in repose and upset, paradise and terror.