The Color of Absence | Fran Forman
Fran Forman, Vizcaya 2023 ©Fran Forman
Written by Madeline Lerner
Each day, we navigate the tumultuous landscape of our emotions, our relationships with others, and our experience with an overbearing world, all within the secluded confines of our minds. Somehow, photographer and storyteller Fran Forman has turned that experience into art. In “The Color of Absence,” Forman places her subjects in homes, a domestic setting that represents the space where the mind harbors a person’s internal struggle.
Fran Forman, A Redhead, 2023 ©Fran Forman
The imagery evokes the same feeling that an entirely AI-constructed photo might: there is hyper-smooth skin, soft lighting, unusual colors, and an eerie lack of facial expression. That is because Forman’s process includes a combination of photography, AI, and digital alteration, resulting in what she calls a “hybrid” final work of art. She embraces the potentials of AI rather than avoiding them, resulting in a profoundly unique portfolio. AI and other digital alterations also allow these characters to become more accessible to the average viewer. Her subjects are dreamlike, lacking the typical physical complexities of an unaltered photo of a real person. The nature of the subjects invites us to apply that dreamlike person to our own understanding of self, which may be easier to relate to than a photo of a real person.
The Color of Absence Fran Forman BBA Gallery ©BBA Gallery
Most of the photographs feature only one or two figures, usually not doing anything but sitting or standing. They all seem to be in deep thought and not outwardly expressing any emotion, resulting in hauntingly lonely portraits of her subjects. They seem uncomfortable with themselves in these households, a sort of contradiction to the tranquility that one’s home should provide. If there is more than one person in the image, they stand distantly from each other— reserved, as if in silent strife. Her mastery lies in portraying how relationships can impose a sense of isolation comparable to being physically alone.
In each photo, hues are oversaturated, almost in a fantastical way, with light illuminating their vibrancy even more. In “Empire State,” a soft green glow emanates through a doorway, reflecting on the shiny floors— a perfectly peculiar color for a simple domestic scene.
Fran_Forman, Empire State, 2022 ©Fran Forman
There is an attention to light and shadow reminiscent of the compositions of Edward Hopper. As a woman with a furrowed brow sits below a window, a soft yellow light envelops her face and the curtain draped behind her. Outside, an ominously dark house stands solitary, mirroring the solitude within. Forman further pursues a Hopper-esque approach by focusing on the social isolation of her subjects, a theme often observed in Hopper’s works.
Fran_Forman, Yellow Curtain, 2023 ©Fran Forman
While the subject of the photo may be the person, equally prominent is some version of a door, window, or mirror. Light pours in through windows, casting patterns onto oversaturated walls. Doors lead to long hallways, either mysteriously dark or illuminated by an opening to the outside. In one photo, her subject examines the person he sees in a mirror he faces, a man that is seemingly not a true reflection of himself. It is almost as if the turmoil that each character faces in their home can be escaped through some portal to a different reality.
As a therapist herself, Forman has a keen understanding of emotions and the nuances of human relationships. This series masterfully encapsulates the intergenerational friction, personal reckoning, and loneliness that we feel each day. See Fran Forman’s “The Color of Absence” at BBA Gallery in Berlin until December 16th.
