I did not just inherit objects, I inherited ways of remembering—and some of what I felt was never mine to begin with. Ti Amo Sempre investigates how a life is lived with intention to guide its remembrance and curate legacy. Rooted in the history of my grandparents’ auction and appraisal business, where objects from estates were recirculated into others' heirlooms, my work emerges from a proximity to lives never witnessed, yet constantly noticed through curiosity. Within my family, an abundance of objects from my Italian lineage forms a parallel inheritance: belongings tied to individuals never met, yet made present through stories and gestures preserved by my late grandfather, Carmine “Jack” Piscopo. From absence comes abundance. In that presence, I encounter rupture, realizing only so much is left, and much is to be known.
Ti Amo Sempre takes the form of an installation staged as an abandoned interior, reminiscent of my grandparents’ cellar, and the antique stores I rummaged through with my grandmother, Joy Piscopo, throughout coastal Maine. Inherited forms: narration, inscription, furniture, and devotional materials, encounter rupture by typographic and material interventions. Historically worn by Italian widows as a gesture of withdrawal, the lace carries familial and personal text, obscuring and voiding object and image. Structured from a Bible left by Carmine, the book catalogues objects as novena, emphasizing sentiment and sacrament. Held in typographic fragmentation, objects appear preserved, yet are altered within engraved frames. What remains in the face of absence is what can be held, although exceeds understanding.