The Garden of Maggie Victoria

This series explores memory and female representation through my great-grandmother’s story, forgotten within my family after her premature death in 1943.

I first learned about Maggie Victoria in January 2022 as I dug through our unruly

family archives. Her somehow familiar face emerged from a set of photos mostly captured by her husband – my great-grandfather Frank – a colourful businessman and keen amateur photographer in Lancashire, England.

Following a fast-moving illness, Maggie Victoria took her last breath during wartime, aged only 56. As was often the way back then, Frank quickly remarried, and no one talked about her after that – not even her children. Maggie Victoria’s story was thus erased for decades, but through the archives, I got to know her as a mother, wife, proud gardener and – importantly – a woman.

Wanting to revive my great-grandmother’s legacy, I integrated scans of those images, archival letters, and other materials I found with my own nature-oriented photographs, tracking Canada’s changing seasons. By adding layers, primarily via digital collage, I aim to connect with Maggie Victoria and question the male gaze, cementing her role.

I use colour to echo her life stages and experiences. By combining contemporary and archival images, I compare two contrasting periods and reflect on the changing nature of photography.

This project aims to render Maggie Victoria visible; it calls women to take up space and construct new visual narratives from old stories. When discussing this still-evolving project, others have voluntarily shared their familial tale of loss, mystery or secrecy. Anchored in a personal meditation, the series invites us to consider issues of heritage, grief and the passing of time that affect us all.