Terence Price has a collection of old photographs. One wall of his studio displays a small selection of them carefully hung under the corners of pins so as not to puncture the pictures. On his desk, Ziploc bags and albums full of photos sit next to stacks of VCR tapes. Culled from his parents, aunts, uncles, and maternal grandmother, Price’s collection is a personal family archive stretching back decades.
For his first solo show at ArtCenter/South Florida, “Dancing in the Absence of Pain,” the collection will appear beside the artist’s own practice of street and personal photography.
Asked how his family feels about the show, Price says, “The only thing my grandma is worried about is damaging the photos.”
Price’s shift from documentation of his neighborhood to archival inspiration wasn’t a calculated study of nostalgia or time, but an organic decision born out of loss. After losing his grandfather, the photographer gravitated toward home videos and photos, most of which were taken by his grandfather.
