Diàna Markosian grew up knowing little about her father. In photo albums compiled by her mother, he was either cropped out of the frame altogether, or left as a ghostly profile. She had last seen him when she was 7 years old, just before her mother took h
Diàna Markosian grew up knowing little about her father. In photo albums compiled by her mother, he was either cropped out of the frame altogether or left as a ghostly profile. Markosian last saw him when she was just 7 years old, her mother taking she and her brother from their family home in Moscow to the United States. Thereafter he was rarely mentioned. But several years ago Markosian set out to discover who her father was, tracking him down at his home in Armenia. Together they embarked on a collaborative photo project, Inventing My Father.
My assignment work has taught me so much this year, but nothing more so than the fact that I love meeting and spending time with people whom I would have no reason to ever interact with were it not for this passion for shooting photographs. No matter what our differences may be, I have something to learn from all of them, and that universal human connection always has the chance to overcome any barrier of class, culture or ideology.