Shroud of Sharin

A life-size UV exposure of the front and back of myself, standing with arms open and lowered, on a linen-based material, suspended from the ceiling, printed in purple, with raw edging.

Shroud of Sharin / 42 x 84 folded

Shroud of Sharin September 1, 2022

Inspiration
I had likely heard of the Shroud of Turin as a youth. I spent a lot of time with my aunt who suffered from a variety of unusual and crippling ailments. She believed in miracles, having seen the tears of the statue of Mary. This is the sort of thing that gave her hope and interest, and it interested me as well.

Later in life, I came across the Shroud on the History Channel. One theory that struck me was that perhaps it was a photographic process by Leonardo Da Vinci, and that the image may have been Da Vinci himself. I liked this idea, and upon hearing it, I had always wanted to try it.

Years passed and I eventually found myself making tapestries featuring dead people. It was only a matter of time before the Shroud of Sharin would reveal herself. Art at the Cave’s “Forgeries” was the prompt needed.

Design Choices
While making the shroud, I was faced with a number of considerations. The first was in relationship to the material. The Shroud of Turin is on herringbone linen. This was unavailable locally, so I used a viscose linen.

The original has a mans body with his hands covering his groin. I lied on the ground and attempted this pose, however it was impossible. My arms barely reached. When lying down, my hair naturally spread across the ground – but the original does not have this effect. With these considerations, it made sense to do it standing. I also choose to spread my arms in a welcoming position, more akin to the statues of Mary.

The original features a nude dude, or perhaps he is wearing a loincloth. I considered a nude of myself, but I felt it could have distracted from other aspects of the work. For the Shroud of Sharin, I am wearing a dress with a minimalistic print of lilies, birds of paradise and other foliage. Interestingly, the pattern of the dress is reminiscent of the “damaged” part of the original shroud. This seemed serendipitous, like a memory resurfacing through of time, process and circumstance. Lastly, I choose purple for the exposure. I did try a sepia exposure first, but it’s just not my color.

General Thoughts and Considerations
Still, it seems generally accepted that the photographic process began somewhere in the 16th and 17th centuries. The Shroud of Turin is carbon dated with the range of 1260 to 1390, and here lies the discrepancy. I propose that photographic processes did exist before the 16th century. A number of cultures pass down traditions and knowledge through oral history. A number of cultures are protective of their history for a variety of reasons. Isn’t it possible that a form of photographic process existed in the 11th century, or even earlier? Exposing this to the general public could have been deemed as witchcraft, and the maker could have been quickly extinguished. For some, it is not safe to reveal secrets. If a secret process such as photographic exposure is revealed to those in power for their own exploitation, only then can the idea reach a critical mass, through some charming, more socially acceptable person. So goes art. So goes history.

SOLO EXHIBITION

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