Yann Castanier spent 15 years photographing his grandparents as they gradually disappeared: first, his grandfather, who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease, and later his grandmother, who was also affected by frontotemporal dementia. “I believe that this particular story resonates within all of our families. We all have someone affected by a neurodegenerative disease. It’s no longer about raising awareness. It’s about telling the story of how we live through these moments in our lives, how we react in the face of illness and death, what happens within and between us, and what allows us to reconnect.”

Using five analog photographic processes, the author documents the progression of their respective illnesses. The material deteriorates just as their brains malfunction. The images become less and less clear as their perceptions of reality are altered. The emotion of their disappearance and the ongoing neurological process are conveyed in a single act.

Initially, his grandfather, placed in a care facility and trapped in the past, is photographed in deep black and white. His grandmother tries to hold him back from falling into abysses of deep blacks. At the same time, Yann Castanier photographs his grandmother at home, alone, as well as the traces of his grandfather left in their home, using unaltered color film. The colors are strong and faithful. “My grandmother is still in reality.”

His grandfather passed away in 2010. The black and white phase ends. “No more photos of grandma at home.”

But in 2015, his grandmother was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia. He then chose to use expired color film as a third process. “There is continuity with color, but the blurred shades reflect the alteration of her perception of reality.”

A few years later, she suffered a stroke. Her words became more confused, often nonsensical. Yann Castanier intentionally let light enter his camera, fogging the film. “In a fog, she becomes more and more inaccessible.”

Then, the illness took over. The neurons dominated. He poured chemicals onto prints of his photographs. “Her representation and being are absorbed by the neural matter.”