The photographs in Twenty Five Days in May were made during daily walks in my village graveyard where in those handful of days more burials took place than in the preceding 500 —proof that the pandemic was real, a protest against politicized news coverage and failures of the State. In one way, making these pictures was an act of data collection and an archive of a particular and immediate loss. In another, they are a meditation, a way to reflect upon the frailty of life and to reckon with an incomprehensible event.
The photographs in Twenty Five Days in May were made during daily walks in my village graveyard where in those handful of days more burials took place than in the preceding 500 —proof that the pandemic was real, a protest against politicized news coverage and failures of the State. In one way, making these pictures was an act of data collection and an archive of a particular and immediate loss. In another, they are a meditation, a way to reflect upon the frailty of life and to reckon with an incomprehensible event.