In association with Head On Photo Festival
Exhibition statement:
I found out my dad was dead when the police rang my doorbell one evening. We sat awkwardly around our half eaten dinner as the Sergeant shuffled through papers while wielding her large flashlight. Pointing out details; mumbling her apologies.
He’d finally succumbed to a lifetime of alcohol abuse and had died alone in his tiny housing commission flat in a city 10 hours away.
I knew very little about my father’s life. We had only seen each other once in the previous 15years and had been reconnecting through short handwritten letters in the months before he passed away.
My sisters and I entered his apartment with garbage bags and cleaning products. I came with the hope of finding some insight into his life, keepsakes from our estranged family; perhaps something I could take home to remember him by. Something to help fill in the 33 years of each other’s lives we had missed.
“I Was Too Late”is a document of what we found instead.
It’s a glimpse into the final moments and thoughts of an isolated person. The last, most intimate and honest points of contact you could ever have.
It’s a chance to finally understand someone, but only through what they’ve left behind.
“I Was Too Late” is a portrait of a life.
David Wallin, Bulli, 2021
Exhibition statement:
I found out my dad was dead when the police rang my doorbell one evening. We sat awkwardly around our half eaten dinner as the Sergeant shuffled through papers while wielding her large flashlight. Pointing out details; mumbling her apologies.
He’d finally succumbed to a lifetime of alcohol abuse and had died alone in his tiny housing commission flat in a city 10 hours away.
I knew very little about my father’s life. We had only seen each other once in the previous 15years and had been reconnecting through short handwritten letters in the months before he passed away.
My sisters and I entered his apartment with garbage bags and cleaning products. I came with the hope of finding some insight into his life, keepsakes from our estranged family; perhaps something I could take home to remember him by. Something to help fill in the 33 years of each other’s lives we had missed.
“I Was Too Late”is a document of what we found instead.
It’s a glimpse into the final moments and thoughts of an isolated person. The last, most intimate and honest points of contact you could ever have.
It’s a chance to finally understand someone, but only through what they’ve left behind.
“I Was Too Late” is a portrait of a life.
David Wallin, Bulli, 2021
