Dana LaMonda

Dana LaMonda, a photographer and artist, possesses a unique ability to capture images that are truly her own. Her personal and sincere approach to her work allows her to immerse herself in various social groups, resulting in remarkable depictions.

In her recent project, The Velvet Zone, she became part of a brothel ''family,''employing a deeply participatory and empathetic research method. Dana's work goes beyond capturing decor; she unveils the unfiltered inner workings of these unique ecosystems.

Her distinct approach, characterised by candid frankness and genuine curiosity, allows her to unveil social environments typically closed off for outsiders.

She works internationally and has multiple nominations, her recent artwork titled: "To the Moon and Back and Back," again is scheduled to launch to the Moon in the upcoming payload Lunar Launch in 2025.

Dana LaMonda, Who Are You?

In 2017, I wrote about the work of Dana LaMonda:

“Dana LaMonda is a photographer/artist who discovers images that can only be found by her due to her extremely personal and sincere way of working. In her work and projects over the past years, she immerses herself in a unique subculture where she participates as a full-fledged member of a family or the management of a company with an extraordinary mission, such as a brothel for the project The Velvet Zone. This participatory research, literally living and participating in the project subject, is essential for Dana LaMonda to create the right relaxed atmosphere in which the essence of such a specific existence nucleus can be captured without interference from overly conscious participants. Dana LaMonda doesn’t find and capture images of the setting or decorum for outsiders, but of real life in the inner world of an unusual biotope. Dana LaMonda has a unique approach that gives her work an unmistakable Dana stamp but, above all, a spontaneous openness and genuine interest in people, unlocking life worlds that remain closed to us as spectators and outsiders. Dana LaMonda allows us to look inside because she has been allowed in and does not betray the trust of those inner worlds. Her work radiates from the inside out and vice versa.”

What I wrote then still corresponds to how I see and experience Dana as a person and how she operates as an artist, but fortunately, she has now left behind any doubts about her artistry. Dana has become more self-assured and knows much better what she wants with her work. As an artist, she constantly questions the work she creates, the plans and projects ahead, but she no longer doubts the now firmly established fact that she makes, must, and wants to make art. Inherently uncertain and disarming but never afraid, she still has that flawless eye for the vulnerable beauty and intimacy of inner worlds, the social fabric of a closed community or subculture nearby or far away; her deceased father’s studio, the often uncertain and adventurous collaboration with other artists in Istanbul or Venice, or a real moon project, but also on the road and while traveling, where the unexpected, different from what you expect, presents itself in the seemingly ordinary of a gesture, a street scene, an abandoned object, and can be sufficient for in-depth research that can lead to an intense in situ project, an exchange, or a performance.

Dana’s work always feels very personal, and precisely in that almost too private aspect, she often manages to strike a universal chord. For example, in her investigation into what her father René left behind in letters, diaries, works, collections, Dana manages to turn it into a unique and special experience for herself and the spectator in various projects. Honest, loving, questioning, and also confronting, because what remains of a deceased father and is sorting out and examining the tangible remnants, the bits and pieces, the written confessions—whether or not intended for a reader—and lists, travel reports, compulsive notes, doodles and drawings, things and trinkets, on piles and shelves, drawers and cabinets, is it a tribute or grave desecration? Does the father disappear further from view in each new project, or does he come more alive than ever with all his personal quirks and how he truly was?

What is behind the armour that we all build around ourselves from a young age for self-preservation, and what are the social codes that we agree upon and seem necessary to (survive)? Dana gently but accurately taps into these individually and collectively constructed constructs in her work and is often granted a rare glimpse - that is her open, non-judgmental, and empathetic quality—into what lies behind the barricades. Her visual research—using photographic means but also through installations and performances depending on what the project requires—is a way to find out who the other, a loved one, a friend, or a stranger is as an individual or within a group or social context in that split second when, in a shared unguarded moment, you see each other without armour.

Dana disarms even lifeless matter when, in an installation, she doesn’t arrange her bookshelf with the book spines armoured outward as usual, but with a direct view of the inside, the pages open and exposed. You don’t get much closer to the essence of what the content of a book is. That’s what it is, that’s where you are in Danaland, because who are you?

— Marie Jeanne de Rooij, January 2024