Like a drop of rain on a glassy lake, Diana Markosianthe new book, Father, in this case, this has external repercussions with the consequences of intergenerational decisions. Published this month by Aperture, just ahead of Markosian’s solo exhibition of the work at National Portrait Gallery in Washington DC, Father follows Maroksian’s journey to rebuild a relationship with his father after 15 years of estrangement. The rebirth is defined by individual decisions both ancient and more recent, including his mother’s move with Markosian and his brother from their native Moscow to Santa Barbara, California, leaving their father behind, and Markosian and his brother the stalking in Armenia for 15 years. later. Through Markosian’s lens, readers get a glimpse, especially from a girl’s perspective, of what this type of relationship might look like and what it means to rewrite a life’s narrative. Father, photographed over 10 years, includes images taken by Markosian – poetic scenes of her with her father at the kitchen table, portraits of him in which he appears to be out of focus and out of focus, and still lifes of her home – as well as an archive of images from his childhood and letters his father wrote to various U.S. government officials hoping to find his children, all bound together by Markosian’s own diary.

Here Markosian talks about his decision to transform this intimate aspect of his life into art.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

Vanity Fair: At what point in your life did you think: I’m going to find my father, meet him, get to know him? Did you plan to work during this process, or was it something that came afterwards?

Diane Markosian: I didn’t even know I was saying goodbye to my father when I saw him for the last time. So this idea of ​​finding him wasn’t there. When I was a child, I asked: “Where is daddy?” My mother would simply say, “Forget it. He left. It was just a real cut. I can totally understand why my mother would want to do this. What I really wanted to focus on was the girl’s story, focusing only on the truth. This isn’t about blaming either parent, it’s just the experience you’re left with as a child surrounded by these two individuals.

As an adult, I was really afraid of finding him. I didn’t know who I was going to find, because I had no idea who he was anymore. Over the years, his memory faded so much that I could no longer remember what he looked like. I forgot, I really forgot. So when my brother and I knocked on his door, I didn’t even recognize him. It’s not that I felt like I was seeing a father, I didn’t know who this man was. He just felt like an old man.

He didn’t recognize my brother or me either. Once we explained who we were, he said, “What took you so long?” After that first day, it took me maybe six months to decide to come back with a camera, to start getting to know him and trying to understand who this man is to me.

By Diana Markosian.

So the choice to photograph was a bit like offering ourselves another way of understanding.

I’m very grateful to photography because I think without this art, without this medium, I would never have stayed. It not only gave me strength, but also courage and gave me a memory of our time together. We didn’t meet for two decades, and it allowed me to create positive memories, and also opened up a braver version of myself, someone who was capable of facing difficult things. So I say this knowing that it’s so cliché, but without photography, I wouldn’t have been as open.

By Diana Markosian.