Editor’s Note: The author is Margot Herster’s step-mother-in-law and friend.
    
For the millions of adults in their 20s reared by baby boomer parents determined to instill in their children self-esteem fueled by fulfillment and encouraging entitlement, questions arise when personal objectives meet up with love. Margot Herster examines issues facing her generation:

Can two young adults pursue separate lives driven by individual interests and goals and also create a life as a couple? Where does the individual life end and the couple’s life begin?  Is sacrifice inherent in a relationship to survive? How quickly must adulthood be reached and to what extent can an individual control the quality of life if it is designated to begin at a specific age instead of at a point of readiness?

In Margot Herster’s poignant photographs, she reveals the loneliness of struggling with these issues even as an intimate relationship progresses. Does loving someone ease assimilation into adulthood or make one more vulnerable to the trappings created by expectations?

The isolation of an emergent self poised slightly apart from the elements of daily life is demonstrated by photographs of physical intimacy against the backdrop of unpacked boxes, randomly strewn personal items in an otherwise unadorned urban apartment, wall hangings propped on the floor, a television turned on in a room facing an uninhabited couch, and the constant pressure of time passing as internal conflicts remain unresolved.  

The courage to admit such a dilemma exists — between pursuing a relationship and allowing one’s ego free reign — is riveting in its naked honesty. In spite of the camera lens’s brilliant focus, the beguiling composition invites interpretation. Herster’s color palette illuminates her photos’ content and creates an optimistic layer over darker themes. Our eyes search each shot to find plausible hope for romance to win over self, or in the very least to hold its own. It is Herster’s expertly measured degree of hope for a dual victory that her work entices us for second, third, and multiple more searches.

Herster also manifests the hesitant interaction in a relationship: a fragment of a woman’s head barely visible in a mirror’s glass is in the foreground as a man leans his half-toweled body against a wall constructed so narrowly that the confinement it creates elicits an involuntary intake air. This keen photograph illustrates the elusive component inherent in the transition from a solitary life to a fully disclosed committed relationship. We are voyeurs snatching glimpses of this couple as they engage, retreat, and attempt tentative steps towards a life of their making. Will this life be worth the effort?    

Another photograph places the man in the relationship outside the apartment. We see him through the window as he sits on the fire escape. Smoke in hand, he stares where we cannot see. The light from inside the apartment casts a shadow across his profile suggesting that physical escape does not provide relief from the emotional conflict of relationships, growth, and meeting adult expectations. We are suspended with him as the answers he seeks remain out of view.  

The artist and her model

I met them, Margot Herster and her model, several years ago. My first impressions have not changed. They are people with stories — ones I want to know.

She hadn’t yet spoken before I drew a conclusion about her. Her presence alone commanded that she not be categorized. I knew from the static in the air created by her entrance that getting acquainted with her would be time consuming. She possesses this level of control. But like a benevolent ruler protecting her subjects, she carries herself without offense, aware of her obligation to not give more information than a situation calls for. Not until the time is right. I liked her immediately.

He is as striking as she is, but he is less guarded.  His charismatic face hints at the substance of life — love, compassion, strength, pain, curiosity, and questions, always questions, and suitable, if not in quantity at least in quality, answers. He charms and entertains without guile. His duty is to bring smiles — some joyful, others thoughtful — and he is a master at it.

Most of all, I took notice — how could one not — that when the two of them are in close proximity, he frames her with an arm, a look, a word. Is it his essence that produces this effect or hers? Does she procure it, or does he offer it up as the standard for their relationship?

He is the model; she is the artist. There is a private contract between them. But in her work you can see it. The viewer is aware of the give-and-take between them that keeps their personal and professional relationships dynamic from the constant shift in power; first one, then the other, taking the lead.  

However, the nuances of their covenant remain a mystery for future discussion. I have questioned each of them attempting to delve into these enigmatic regions, but intuition tells me their reticence to expose more now is to keep the relationship incubating. When they are ready, and the time is right, they will reveal their new insights through art. I will be waiting.

In The Fray Contributor