Walter in the Mask He Made 1986

Editor: So, this is Joan Cassis’s photograph, "Walter in the Mask He Made," from 1986. It's a black and white photo and, well, it strikes me as pretty unsettling, especially with that stark mask. What do you see in it? Curator: The photograph resonates on several levels, doesn't it? On one level, this photo really speaks to me about the performance of identity, especially masculinity. Consider the homemade mask paired with the figure's attire – the shirt and suspenders – how do they intersect or clash? Editor: I guess the mask almost seems childlike, but then the clothes suggest... adulthood, maybe? Curator: Precisely. Think about how gender roles are constructed, and how that impacts our sense of self. The setting - this sparse, institutional room - adds another layer. What emotions does that space evoke in you? Editor: It feels empty, sterile… kind of lonely, I guess. Like a waiting room. Curator: Indeed. The photograph could be seen as a comment on vulnerability within restrictive social structures. Masks, historically, are used to hide but also to reveal. How does Walter use this homemade mask to negotiate visibility, and what sociopolitical circumstances push one to perform identity in this manner? Do you feel this mask represents freedom? Oppression? Both? Editor: I hadn't thought about the dual nature of masks that way. It's definitely not just a straightforward image; there’s a lot of tension here. Curator: Right. This work asks us to think about how our identities are both self-created and imposed upon us by societal forces. Editor: I think I will definitely carry a deeper awareness into analyzing not only photography but the historical meaning of gender roles within the arts. Curator: I concur, the photo leaves me wondering if he feels as confined as those in between seat chairs that are in the photo.