Creator Stories

Aidan Murgatroyd

Time's Relentless Melt

As a college student, I lost my best friend to drowning at Wild Woods Falls in Oregon on May 31st, 2015. The deep sense of grief and loss reverberated through the reaches of my mind. It was at this point that a film camera was given to me by an elderly lady back-packing around the States on her quest for meaning after the death of her lifelong partner. Her gift altered the degree to which I am compelled to make memories tangible through photographic practice.

This series aims to explore the ontological persistence of life after death. The metaphysical ripples of lives that have ended continue to create impact and meaning long after our loved ones have departed. My work attempts to visually communicate the intangible qualities of trace, nostalgia, memory, absence, and loss. Susan Sontag (1973:14) reminds us that “reminds us that “to take a photograph is to participate in another person’s (or things) mortality, vulnerability, mutability." The complexities of trauma make clear that time is not a constant linear march forward.

This extends to the spaces and places the departed once occupied. These spaces in the reaches of our minds and the world around us are connected by memory and consciousness. Intangible reservoirs of emotion and meaning live on in physical planes we do not have extended access to but are offered brief glimpses of. These glimpses can manifest in dreams, fleeting memories, and constructed realities. This series attempts to acquire the memories retroactively lost to bring about resolution through the construction of the imagined ontology of the departed' final moments, from which everything changed.

The Divergent

I wasn't there the day my best friend drowned, but the details have been shared with me by those who were. It took me 9 years after his passing to visit the river that took his life.

This image was inspired by recurring dreams of his final moments.

The Tangential

The inevitability of death invokes a search for evidence of the eternality of the soul. A desire to view life as a force which is transformative between planes of existence.

In order to cope with the loss of Tony, I often find myself embracing ideas of the mystical power of the soul. I am drawn to producing images that evade the natural eye such as long exposures and blurred images.

To me they invoke the idea of the soul travelling through our plane of existence just beyond the reach of our senses yet close enough that you can feel them in the distance.

Shadow of Death

Symbolism of death evokes conscious fear of its finality. Limitations in human perception create doubt about the possibility of eternal life.

The subconscious imagines it as a right of passage, worthy of celebration. Evidenced by the universality of mythic patterns across cultures and religions.

I find myself confronted with deaths symbols everywhere I look, it is not yet clear to me whether this is because of my own traumatic experiences or if they are messages from beyond.

Manipulated Living

Tima, Tony's romantic partner. We had known each other as 20-year-old kids. Upon reuniting in person for the first time in 7 years, the bond of pain and joy we share lives on. A retroactive existence of trace, nostalgia, memory, absence and loss.

United forever by a mutual sorrow, our friendship grows stronger with each passing year. We continue to attempt to reconcile with the reality that as we grow old the departed lives on as a 20-year-old. Forever.

Denial

University of Oregon graveyard, 15th February 2024.

For longer than I'd care to admit, I found myself in a race to the bottom of the bottle.

The day of Tony's passing I was phoned by Javier and called over to his house with no explanation. He said simply, "Tony died today." I was overtaken with anger. I stood up and began yelling that if this was some kind of joke it was not funny and I was not going to tolerate it.

But day in and day out I awake in the mornings after similar frantic visions that perpetuate my dreamscape to be reminded, it was all real.

Water and Metal

Water and Metal are key elements of time travel, according to the cult film classic Donnie Darko.

Construction of such realities wherein the human can subsume power over the divinity of universal law, provide room for imagined eternality.

I often find myself entrenched in stories which centre on worlds in which we have the power to recount time, to move back and forth freely in order to achieve the outcomes we believe fate has stolen from us.

As Above, So Below

It took divers 3 hours to find Tony's body, trapped by the rip tides beneath the waterfall due to currents created by underwater caves.

Rather than visualizing such a profound loss of young life as a malevolent act of the forces of nature, I have found it cathartic to picture a beautiful endlessness.

The resolution of a life wherein Tony's last moments were not consumed by fear and pain but rather a peaceful recount of the times in his life that had meant the most.

The Presence of Absence

Travelling to the river for the first time in 9 years, I felt a pang of relief seeing Tony's memorial had remained untouched.

The air felt chillingly cold upon getting out the car, despite it being spring. A rush of memories of us as kids looking for college parties and sharing stories of our lives rushed over me.

In some way, I imagined Tony's gleeful laugh reassuring me that he was not gone. Wild Woods Falls echoed a deeper inhabitance to me, one eerily familiar.

The Artefact

Cape Perpetua.

Nine years ago, in this exact spot, I met a traveler who was also seeking understanding of life's meaning. She was back-packing around the States after the loss of her life partner, who was an avid photographer. We spoke watching the waves crash below. She gifted me an old film camera.

This chance encounter heavily influenced my compulsion to make memories tangible through photographic practice.

Days Gone

The complexities of trauma make clear that time is not a constant linear march forward.

Each year, the seasons come and go, the trees grow taller, and the leaves fall to the ground. Next year marks the 10-year anniversary of your passing.

"Move on!" they say, but this disregards the lasting impact of your life. I am a photographer because of you.

In loving memory of Tony