Transi by Margot Jourquin
Between the finite human life and death, there is a suspended moment in which one passes from one to the other. It's as if the departed might revive, and continue with their walk of life. Those who bear witness to this transition are the caretakers responsible for performing the final treatment. They cleanse the bodies, dress them, comb their hair and and arrange them in a peaceful repose for the very last time. Even if they are not to be seen by their loved ones, they are still treated here with the utmost human dignity. In her debut book Transi, Margot Jourquin documents this liminal instant between the two realms and the people who prepare the dead for their burial.
“I enter with the funeral home employee into a small, sterile room in the basement of a hospital. It's lit by neon lights, the floor is of linoleum. There are metal stretchers, metal fridge doors, metal tools. The zinc coffin lid, screws, a soldering iron. The only thing that warms the atmosphere slightly is the presence of fabrics. White sheets, pillows, decorated blankets. The funeral home employee takes the stretcher out of the fridge and gently lifts the sheet. I observe the scene through the camera viewfinder. I'm hiding, in fact. We're here for Mrs. R, an elderly woman with smooth grey hair and a crooked nose.
Shortly after I'm left alone with Mrs. R. I begin to really look at her, not focusing on making photos anymore. There are two of us in the room, and yet, I am alone. I can't comprehend that she's dead. I watch for any movement in her hands or in the sheets. By staring so intently, I get the feeling that they are moving. I fear she might open her eyes. I dare not turn my back on her. Confronted with something I can't understand, I'm petrified and frozen still.”
-Margot Jourquin
Between the finite human life and death, there is a suspended moment in which one passes from one to the other. It's as if the departed might revive, and continue with their walk of life. Those who bear witness to this transition are the caretakers responsible for performing the final treatment. They cleanse the bodies, dress them, comb their hair and and arrange them in a peaceful repose for the very last time. Even if they are not to be seen by their loved ones, they are still treated here with the utmost human dignity. In her debut book Transi, Margot Jourquin documents this liminal instant between the two realms and the people who prepare the dead for their burial.
“I enter with the funeral home employee into a small, sterile room in the basement of a hospital. It's lit by neon lights, the floor is of linoleum. There are metal stretchers, metal fridge doors, metal tools. The zinc coffin lid, screws, a soldering iron. The only thing that warms the atmosphere slightly is the presence of fabrics. White sheets, pillows, decorated blankets. The funeral home employee takes the stretcher out of the fridge and gently lifts the sheet. I observe the scene through the camera viewfinder. I'm hiding, in fact. We're here for Mrs. R, an elderly woman with smooth grey hair and a crooked nose.
Shortly after I'm left alone with Mrs. R. I begin to really look at her, not focusing on making photos anymore. There are two of us in the room, and yet, I am alone. I can't comprehend that she's dead. I watch for any movement in her hands or in the sheets. By staring so intently, I get the feeling that they are moving. I fear she might open her eyes. I dare not turn my back on her. Confronted with something I can't understand, I'm petrified and frozen still.”
-Margot Jourquin
Between the finite human life and death, there is a suspended moment in which one passes from one to the other. It's as if the departed might revive, and continue with their walk of life. Those who bear witness to this transition are the caretakers responsible for performing the final treatment. They cleanse the bodies, dress them, comb their hair and and arrange them in a peaceful repose for the very last time. Even if they are not to be seen by their loved ones, they are still treated here with the utmost human dignity. In her debut book Transi, Margot Jourquin documents this liminal instant between the two realms and the people who prepare the dead for their burial.
“I enter with the funeral home employee into a small, sterile room in the basement of a hospital. It's lit by neon lights, the floor is of linoleum. There are metal stretchers, metal fridge doors, metal tools. The zinc coffin lid, screws, a soldering iron. The only thing that warms the atmosphere slightly is the presence of fabrics. White sheets, pillows, decorated blankets. The funeral home employee takes the stretcher out of the fridge and gently lifts the sheet. I observe the scene through the camera viewfinder. I'm hiding, in fact. We're here for Mrs. R, an elderly woman with smooth grey hair and a crooked nose.
Shortly after I'm left alone with Mrs. R. I begin to really look at her, not focusing on making photos anymore. There are two of us in the room, and yet, I am alone. I can't comprehend that she's dead. I watch for any movement in her hands or in the sheets. By staring so intently, I get the feeling that they are moving. I fear she might open her eyes. I dare not turn my back on her. Confronted with something I can't understand, I'm petrified and frozen still.”
-Margot Jourquin