When artist Sarah Mei Herman first began photographing her father, Julian, and her half-brother, Jonathan, in 2005, she had no idea that this would evolve into a two-decade-long body of work. Like many families, the act of capturing moments together seemed ordinary at the time, but over the years, these photographs would become a profound exploration of time, relationships, and the complexities of family life. Herman’s journey into this project was not premeditated; it began simply as a way to document her connection to two people who were deeply important to her but also, in many ways, emotionally distant. Over time, however, this act of documentation transformed into a deeply personal and intimate study of love, loss, and the passage of time.
Herman’s relationship with her half-brother Jonathan was particularly complex. Born to her father and his partner, Eva, when Herman was already in her early 20s, Jonathan entered her life during a time when she was transitioning into adulthood. Having grown up as an only child, Herman had once longed for a sibling, but by the time Jonathan was born, she was no longer in a phase of life where she could naturally bond with him as an equal. This distance was compounded by Jonathan’s reserved nature; he was a quiet, introspective child who kept people at arm’s length, including Herman. “He was very sweet, but he was quite distant,” she explained. This emotional distance became a driving force behind her photography. By capturing Jonathan through her lens, Herman found a way to connect with him on his terms, immortalizing moments that might otherwise fade into memory. Over the years, her camera became a bridge between them, allowing her to navigate their complicated bond.
As Herman continued to photograph her father and half-brother, the project naturally evolved. In the early years, her photographs were quick snapshots taken with a 35mm film camera, capturing spontaneous moments during family gatherings and trips, such as a visit to their paternal grandmother in South Africa. However, when she switched to a medium-format camera in 2007, the process became more deliberate and formal. Medium-format film requires stillness and patience, forcing both Julian and Jonathan to pause their lives for each frame. This shift in process not only changed the aesthetic of her work but also deepened the emotional weight of the images. The slower, more deliberate nature of medium-format photography allowed Herman to capture moments of quiet introspection, revealing subtle nuances in their relationships that might have been lost in more fleeting shots.
Over the years, Herman’s photographs have chronicled Jonathan’s growth from a shy, dark-haired boy into a contemplative young man. In her images, he moves through stages of childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood, often surrounded by toys like soldiers, swords, and guns. These objects, which appear in many of her early photographs, serve as both a reflection of Jonathan’s inner world and a metaphor for the emotional walls he has built around himself. “My brother was always trying to build a wall around himself,” Herman reflected. “I think the toys and the weapons were his way of protecting himself.” Meanwhile, Julian, now 80 years old, has aged gracefully in the frames, his presence a steady anchor in the photographs even as he navigates the challenges of Parkinson’s disease. Together, they form a trio of sorts, with Herman herself existing as an unseen but deeply felt presence in the work.
The photographs also reveal the subtle but profound shifts in the dynamics between Julian and Jonathan over time. In earlier images, Jonathan is often seen sitting in tree branches or curled up in his father’s lap, his small frame a stark contrast to Julian’s larger, more commanding presence. As he grows older, the physical and emotional distance between them becomes more apparent. In one striking image from 2016, Jonathan sits beside Julian on a beach, the two of them separated by a line of disrupted sand. This quiet tension is a recurring theme in Herman’s work, capturing the ways in which relationships evolve over time. Despite the emotional distance between them, Jonathan has always participated willingly in the photographs, allowing Herman to continue her journey of documenting their lives.
One of the most poignant aspects of Herman’s work is its ability to capture the passage of time and the fleeting nature of life. In revisiting her archive to create her new book, “Julian & Jonathan,” Herman was struck by the weight of these images, which now span more than two decades. The book is not just a portrait of her father and brother but also a reflection of her own journey as an artist and a member of this family. Over the years, life has brought both joy and sorrow: Herman has become a mother to her own daughter, while Jonathan’s mother, Eva, passed away from breast cancer. Meanwhile, Julian’s health has declined as he navigates the challenges of Parkinson’s. Through it all, the camera has remained a constant, a way for Herman to process the complexities of her life and to hold onto moments that might otherwise slip away.
In many ways, Herman’s photographs feel like a pause in time, a way to freeze the relentless flow of life and examine it more closely. She has described the moments when she photographs her father and brother as “a parallel world,” where they come together outside of their daily routines. While these moments are staged, they also reveal a deep truth about their relationships. Herman’s presence is felt throughout the work, even though she rarely appears in the images herself. Her voice is there in the way she frames the shots, in the subtle directions she gives, and in the quiet moments of connection that emerge between her subjects. Over the years, her work has been recognized internationally, with exhibitions and awards that honor its emotional depth and artistic integrity. Yet for Herman, the true power of the project lies in its ability to capture the complexity of family life, with all its struggles, joys, and moments of quiet connection.
