in almost every picture #9

In almost every picture #9 shows a family’s efforts to capture their pet dog on film. Unfortunately for the photographers, the dog has very, very black fur, making him almost impossible to depict accurately. Doubly unfortunate is their camera, an old Polaroid completely unsuited to taking pictures in conditions brighter than a desert at noon in July. So these would-be attempts to show love for a four-legged family member would appear doomed. But actually they make for rather beautiful mistakes, with the dog assuming an air of mystery and importance, made more present by his absence. Around the fringes of the canine silhouette we see details of a now vanished world, a place decorated like a set from an old movie, all wood panelling and wallpaper that would be ironic now (but most definitely wasn’t then). Page after page we witness this place and its non-dog, each image an attempt to show domestic contentment in a different way. Some shots are improbably well-composed, some serious, and some aim for humour, as when the owner poses to have a conversation with the dog blob while they sit on armchairs. 

By the end, we wonder whether we’ll ever see the doggy hero, and then- quite suddenly- there he is, revealed at the end of the book. Quite unexpectedly, we see what the fuss was about… Spanning many years, this epic tale of determination leaves a rousing message: be true to yourself and your dreams and one day, you shall succeed. Even if success means merely taking a decent picture of your best friend.