Tarabanski’s ability to choreograph his flower subjects recalls the work of Utagawa Hiroshige (1797-1858), the last master of the ukiyo-e tradition. Hiroshige’s woodblock prints and paintings often depicted flora, fauna, and landscapes of his travels. In his renderings of branches, birds, and fishes, Hiroshige employed strong diagonals that produced a sense of urgent movement. He was undoubtedly instructed by the tradition of ikebana (making flowers alive), emphasizing the totality of the floral specimen. Tarabanski has spent significant time in Japan, and by osmosis or deliberate homage, he uses a similar minimalistic language as Hiroshige, highlighting the slant of a leaf or the angle of a twig. His photographic results eschew the symmetry of classical flower arrangements for something stranger and operatic.

One usually doesn’t associate sounds with flowers as foliage is silent in its ability to convey a range of dispositions. German artist Isa Genzken defies this broad assumption in her series of monumental public sculptures Roses and Two Orchids. Steel structures three stories high clear their throats and announce, “I am flower, see me roar.” By isolating each floral stalk and concentrating on nature’s architecture, Genzken achieves a sentinel-like authority via massive size. Tarabanski also leans into the flower’s structure and engineers a voice through his ability to manipulate his specimens as puppets, with stems outstretched and buds singing in unison, or a bloom calling out for love.

The enchantment in Roses for Mother is the activity that takes place before Tarabanski snaps the photograph, which ultimately is an archival product of an arduous creative process with numerous false starts and finishes. These diorama meditations require him to access a variety of skill sets; perhaps the most natural one is akin to the fashion designer. Key to the trade is the sculpting technique of draping fabric over a mannequin until a form materializes, such as balloon trousers or a couture dress.