[OTS#0] I heard of nothing here. || Lat. 40°46’12.94”N, Long. 73°44’8.20”W / Northern Boulevard, Queens, NY, 2006
[OTS#7] Tony Brandon scraped his left knee on July 7, 1967, in a semi-serious fight with his classmate George Tenet, later a CIA director, on the sidewalk near the eatery that the Tenet’s used to own (“Scobee,” or the former “20th Century”). He remembers how badly it hurt and how George worried about his new shorts being torn, which were a gift for his birthday that day. || George J. Tenet served as the Deputy Director and the Director of the CIA from June 1995 to July 2004. He was born on January 5, 1953. It is likely that Tony Brandon’s memory of the date that had three 7’s is related to another event. || Lat. 40°46'13.90"N, Long. 73°44'9.04"W / Little Neck Parkway at Northern Boulevard, Little Neck, Queens, New York, 2007
[OTS#21] Dexter Evanson reshipped a tennis cap in the right color with a ring included on October 18, 2007, and emailed a notice to a Keene, one of his eBay customers, with the note that he found the ring in Keene’s return package when he opened it. Keene responded four days later to say thanks and that the ring could belong to anyone but him/her. Mr. Evanson soon replied that neither did he think the ring belonged to anybody he knew since he had never had a helper and he opened and sealed every package with his own hands; “thank you, though truly no need to send it back”. Keene asked in the next mail that whether Mr. Evanson knew of an H.L. as the letters engraved on the ring were possibly initials for a name. Evanson didn’t. || Lat. 40°42’55.68”N, Long. 73°37’56.29”W / 73 Sealey Avenue, Hempstead, Nassau, New York, 2008
[OTS#3] Dario Nardella, a 46-year-old sanitation worker, insists that Norah Jones sat on the long couch on February 20, 2003, just a few days before she received eight Grammy Awards. Nardella has his reasons when arguing with his coworkers: 1, he can recall what he ate for his brunch and whom he chatted with afterwards on that day; 2, he even talked with Miss Jones when she previously walked by down to the lawn, telling her no black ducks yet in the mere; 3, three days later, he watched the Grammys for the first time and learned the girl’s name. Surely he wouldn’t forget a face in just three days. || Dario Nardella has been watching the Grammy’s every year since 2003. || Lat. 40°45’12.55”N, Long. 73°44’32.28”W / Alley Pond Park, Douglaston, Queens, New York, 2008
[OTS#13] Sachiko Fujimoto, 22, a freshman at New York University, sat alone at a table in the sunken plaza on a Friday afternoon of April 2005, vacillating between locating the powder room right away and watching the belongings scattered on the table and stroller. A cough erupted from her chest. Her two-year-old nephew had been playing with his mother in the distance in front of the Prometheus. Ms. Miss Fujimoto could peep at them, in the short pauses from the cough that racked her, through her wet glasses and the densely seated diners. She practiced saying the words in her mind. Non-contagious. Chronic. She found she had no confidence in pharyngitis. || The hsunshen, a cheap one of ginseng, a suggestion from an herbalist in Chinatown, became the wonderful cure for Ms. Fujimoto's pain in 2006. || Lat. 40°45'31.29"N, long. 73°58'42.34"W / Rockefeller Plaza, Rockefeller Center, Manhattan, New York, 2007
[OTS#12] It is the one with brickwork decoration beneath it. The window would be raised high at 11 a.m. in the morning and not periodically in the afternoon; a hand with a lit cigarette and wisps of smoke would loll out of the room. That started approximately six months before the New York City Smoke-Free Air Act became effective on March 30, 2003. The smoking lasted one or two months from the date, while the window opening did for further weeks. || Lat. 40°45'7.94"N, Long. 73°58'50.19"W / East 41st Street between Fifth and Madison Avenues, Manhattan, New York, 2008
[OTS#23] “I run among the steel frames on the roofs sometimes, without missing steps or stumbling. I dreamed the dream... frequently. I got used to it. It always woke me up in the morning, except once when I dreamed that I was dreaming the dream, getting up, taking a shower... I wasn’t! It doesn’t sound that crazy if you dreamed you’re dreaming, does it? ... I dreamed it again once or twice this year, and that’s kind of weird.” || A man who introduced himself as Warren talked in a New Jersey pub in the spring of 2008 about his time of college in the late 90’s. He used to take the subway to school via the elevated Queens Plaza station every day. || Lat. 40°45’0.72”N, Long. 73°56’23.32”W / Queens Plaza, Long Island City, Queens, New York, 2008
[OTS#1] On the evening of September 26, 2004, Gladys Ellison, a 43-year-old nurse, found a Metro, dated the 26th of the previous month, in the gap between the washing machine and the laundry sorter in the Ellisons’ basement. Around the same time the paper was published, five months after their son, Sgt. Eric Ellison, 21, died in Gartan, Baghdad, her husband, Mart Ellison, a 49-year-old veteran, got a burn on his right shin by accident in their garage. A week after finding the newspaper, Gladys Ellison moved in with her mother in Vermont where she stayed for 14 months. || Rachel Ellison, 16, the daughter of the Ellison’s, mentioned the above circumstances in her schoolwork, by her parents’ okay. || Lat. 40°35’1*.**N, Long. 74°08’5*.**W / Beard Street, Staten Island, New York, 2008 || [Citation] Man Burns Self after Son’s Death in Iraq // FLORIDA A father who had just been told his Marine son was killed in combat in Iraq set himself on fire in a Marine Corps van and suffered severe burns yesterday, police said. Three U.S. Marines went to a house in Hollywood and told the parents of a 20-year-old Marine that their son died Tuesday in Najaf. The father, Carlos Arredondo, 44, then walked into the open garage, picked up a can of gasoline, a propane tank and a lighting device and set the van on fire. (AP) - Metro, New York Edition, August 26, 2004
[OTS#5] At around 10 p.m., December 29, 2006, Juan Vargas, 19, was talking on his cell phone with his mother in the Dominican Republic when the smoke began to reek from the garbage can where his cigarette stub smoldered. A police officer got out of the patrol car that was pulled over across the street, approached with a bottle of water in his hand and poured the water over the red ash. Vargas was about to worry about his immigration status as the officer was called back by his partner who stayed in the cruiser. “Saddam…” said the partner. At around 10 p.m., December 29, 2006, Juan Vargas, 19, was talking on his cell phone with his mother in the Dominican Republic when the smoke began to reek from the garbage can where his cigarette stub smoldered. A police officer got out of the patrol car that was pulled over across the street, approached with a bottle of water in his hand and poured the water over the red ash. Vargas was about to worry about his immigration status as the officer was called back by his partner who stayed in the cruiser. “Saddam…” said the partner. || Saddam Hussein was executed on December 29, 2006, 10:05 p.m. ET (December 20, 2006, 6:05 a.m. Baghdad Time). However, there was a one or two hour delay before the news was broadcast all over the world. Juan Vargas seemed to have been mistaken. || Lat. 40°43’4.21”N, Long. 73°57’27.79”W / Bedford Avenue and N 7th Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York, 2009
[OTS#18] We howled with laughter while we waited, the big rain causing flooding. / Three of us got nine Anya’s bags, our payoff for not sleeping. / A block away from my office there was something exploding. / So I got off early, with my Anya’s bags, payoff for not sleeping. / I remembered the howling, but, why were we laughing? / Anyway, each of us got three Anya’s bags, payoff for our not sleeping. || This anonymous verse must be talking about the launch of Anya Hindmarch’s I’m Not a Plastic Bag bags in the Whole Food stores on July 18, 2007, the same day torrential rain hit the city in the morning, and the steam pipe in Midtown Manhattan ruptured in a thunderous explosion at the evening rush of that day. || Lat. 40°46’2.99”N, Long. 73°58’54.95”W / Whole Food, Columbus Circle, Midtown Manhattan, New York, 2009
[OTS#2] After school on June 26, 2006, Emily Kwong, a fifth-grader of PS89 Elmhurst, went through the bridge opening and lost three plastic beads from her wrist band. During dinnertime, Emily found out the family would be moving to the West Coast in a month. The next day, when immersing herself in bidding farewell to her friends, Emily forgot to search for her beads even though she passed through the opening twice. The summer vacation started on June 28. || On the first day of the next academic year, my daughter, one of Emily Kwong’s friends, mentioned the lost beads when I walked her to school. We paused at the opening for a while. || Lat. 40°44’30.14”N, Long. 73°52’40.28”W / The Overpass of Long Island Railroad, 88th Street near 43rd Avenue, Elmhurst, Queens, New York, 2008
[OTS#0] I heard of nothing here. || Lat. 40°46’12.94”N, Long. 73°44’8.20”W / Northern Boulevard, Queens, NY, 2006
- © Yaohua Zheng
On Their Sites: Landscapes with Private Monuments
View with LARGE ALBUM please
I believe that some seemingly inconsequential personal memories stir people more frequently than significant historical events do. I also believe that most people’s lives appear completely uneventful to others. At the end of 2006, after reading for the second time Joel Sternfeld’s On This Site, a book juxtaposing landscape photographs with texts about a series of tragic events in American collective memory, I decided to make a book for another type of memories. I started photographing the sites where people’s private memories were attached, recording memories that might be meaningful only to their owners.
Although “image-text” has not been a fantastic new idea, it naturally becomes a tool for a project that borrows a form of communication from tourism, — on the Lion’s Mound, looking down at the lush plain, the battlefield Waterloo, where the topography has changed long ago, the guide counts the 47,000 dead or wounded and then the tourists sigh. The form helps to construct the project and to query the difference of reliability and significance to treat depictions of collective/public memory and individual/private memory as both of them are recorded in detail.
The ongoing project has also given me a chance to revisit this experience. One unconsciously seeks an awareness of being anchored. By attaching memories to places or objects where he/she settles or tarries, one builds the relationship of mutual recognition and confirmation with the world. An intersection, a mailbox or a tiny thorn therefore becomes his/her vessel of private memory or monument of personal history. I was amazed by some details while recording for this growing collection and was finally convinced that they had been or would be the irrefutable evidence of one’s life in his/her memory.
To simulate the look of uneventful lives, I waited for sunny days to photograph on the sites where various intimate memories were interspersed, hoping to avoid painting the images with the likely mawkish photographic expressions of a know-it-all. 4”x5” film, as deep depth of field as possible, wide framing, nonhierarchical composition, by which I offered audience a chance to retrace the artist’s searching and, thereby, his imagination. When brightening the upper midtones, lowering its contrast, the highly detailed realistic sun drenched images were washed down, which offered me a world of memory, of lucid dreams. However, I cannot tell to whom the dreams belong.
Zheng Yaohua
Oct 12, 2010












