Like Leah Freed, Nathalie Ghanem-Latour uses photography as a “ventilation of stress”—in this case, from a six-month-long destabilizing downward spiral. Despite success in her day job, the photographer’s mental health was rapidly deteriorating and her personal relationships were suffering along with it. “Every day,” she writes, “I was questioning aspects of myself, slowly becoming unhinged.” As the unraveling continued, photography and her series The Six Months helped her exhale and confront her mental health.
The Six Months is a collection of subtle everyday scenes of obstruction that reflect Ghanem-Latour’s ongoing mental barriers, shot during lunch breaks at her job in a strange and remote neighbourhood outside of Paris. In one photograph, a red-and-white candy cane–striped rope stretches diagonally across a plane of freshly mowed green grass. It’s a weirdly geometric break in the frame—a bright, obvious detail in the urban landscape that stands in the way yet likely goes unnoticed by the everyday passer by. Another photograph depicts a black hole cut into a similarly manicured suburban bush—perhaps a sign for unsuccessful attempts to push through the emotional walls the artist stood against. In another image, scaffolding surrounds the bust of a Grecian statue, protecting it, yet boxing it in.
For Ghanem-Latour, these photos are mementos of times when she felt out of place in the world. “Walking and taking photos was subconsciously my way of coping,” she says. “In that brief moment, I felt like I could finally let go and be myself. With photography, I can take control of my surroundings, and it allows me to express myself in ways that my anxiety and shyness won’t let me. It gives me a voice and helps me show my strength in times when I have none.”
Michele Usher 