The Tool Project

Three Frames Photographs of Tools over Leather Couch

I began making these photographs in 2002, shortly after my father died.

My dad was a hydraulic maintenance mechanic who could fix almost anything. His garage was packed with tools, welding equipment, machinery, half-finished projects, and parts he had made himself when he couldn’t find what he needed. I spent many hours there with him, surrounded by the sounds, smells, grime, and constant activity of that space.

After he died, my first instinct was to go into the garage and photograph everything. I shot roll after roll of film, but when I got them back, the photographs were awful. They felt frantic and unfocused, which, looking back, probably wasn’t surprising.

So I tried again.

I began bringing his tools into my studio, piling them into buckets and crates and carrying them home. There, I could slow down. I could arrange them, move them around, and really look at them. I noticed the weight of the metal, the grease and black grit that came off on my hands, the scratches and wear, and the way some of his tools had his name engraved into them in his own handwriting.

That’s his handwriting you can see in some of these photographs.

As I worked through the series, the arrangements changed. Some began as loose piles, while others became more deliberate and carefully organized. Looking back, I can see myself moving through something at the same time—through the chaos of losing him, the urge to put things in order, and the slower understanding of what it meant to miss him.

These photographs became a way for me to spend time with the objects that had been part of his everyday life. I didn’t always know what every tool was called or exactly how he used it, but I knew what they meant to me.

What I remember most are his hands: thick, callused, and almost always dirty from working. I wish I had made a photograph of them. I didn’t. But when I look at these tools, I still see those hands.

The Tool Project became one of the first bodies of work in which I understood that an object can carry memory. Sometimes the things a person used, touched, collected, and left behind can give us another way to spend time with them.

That idea has stayed with me ever since.

The Tool Project is a collection of 19 black-and-white still life photographs created in 2002 using tools from my father’s garage.

Each image is available as an open-edition photographic print on 11 × 14-inch paper. Image dimensions vary. Signature is incorporated into the photograph. Prints are sold unmounted and unframed.