THE HOUSE IS BURNING

The image that illustrates the cover of Cambio16, the work of the American photographer and educator Norma I. Quintana (Cleveland, Ohio, 1954), specialized in social documentary, reflects a detail of the charred remains - household utensils, belongings, and memories of an entire life - that she was able to rescue still smoldering from the fire that devoured his home in California one fateful and sad Sunday in 2017. The day she bitterly understood that the link between climate change and wildfires is inextricable.

At 11:00 pm, Sunday, October 8th, 2017 there was a loud banging on our front door. First responders gave us five minutes to gather a few things while bullhorns were sounding evacuation orders. A raging wind was driving a firestorm directly towards our home. My husband, daughter, son, elderly mother-in-law, and I fled from the house where we lived for over 25 years. We found refuge in an office building where we spent the night. 

The following morning, we received the devastating news that our home and photographic studio were destroyed. Three days later, Sheriff officers escorted us back to the site where our home once stood. Nothing was recognizable. What remained of our family home was just the charred wreckage of the chimney, which lay in pieces along the driveway. It resembled a war zone; rubble and debris were scattered by an explosion created by the heat of the fire. We were now displaced and homeless—our lives had changed forever.

 I was drawn to the grotesque home site. Despite smoke, ashes, and the stench of burning debris, I stood knee-deep in the smoldering rubble, looking for anything familiar. I began to see the strange, unexpected beauty in what remained. Buried in the ash, objects became recognizable—a pin, a wristwatch, a statuette of a clown, cameras, and kitchen tools. As I held these surviving objects in my hands, I realized that I was holding my life and unearthing actual memories. Out of the firestorm, a body of photographic work evolved, which I entitled Forage From Fire.

Foraging in the ashes became a way for me to negotiate the trauma of unspeakable loss. Daily I dug through the rubble with a handmade sifter. Wearing an N95 mask, black rubber gloves, and boots, I carefully combed through the wreckage like an archeologist. Small objects—burnt and warped—continued to reveal themselves. There was something sacred about their survival. I began to document these vestiges of my life using the only photographic equipment I had left—my cellphone.

I placed the foraged items on the black glove which provided a canvas and a theme. I started to organize over 100 photographs of the objects which were displayed in museum exhibitions. And on the one-year anniversary of the fire, had a solo exhibition at SF Camerawork. This body of work became emblematic of the 2017 firestorm and a touchstone that allows others to embark on a journey of remembrance. Like artifacts from lost civilizations, these objects tell stories and give testament to human endeavors, allowing the personal to become universal.

Photographer Paul Strand said, “We do not photograph some large conception of humanity, but rather go very deeply into a single person, and penetrate very deeply to derive a larger meaning.” The process of creating this work was key to my transformation from fire victim to activist. It became a platform to speak about recovery and the healing power of art as well as the catastrophic effects of climate change.

The tragedy we experienced as a family and a community was overwhelming and paralyzing. Creating, exhibiting, and speaking about Forage From Fire helped me manage the devastation. More than documenting a loss, I hope my story speaks to the impact of fires on individual lives and can help others recover from the trauma caused by natural disasters. I continue to excavate memories and embrace the blank slate.

Norma I. Quintana is an American photographer and educator based in Napa, California. Born in Cleveland Ohio, she earned a Masters in Social Sciences from Case Western University and worked in human resources during her corporate career. Quintana began her career in documentary photography in the late 90s, attending Napa Valley College for a photography degree completed in 2001.

Quintana has also studied with such influential photographers as Mary Ellen Mark, Shelby Lee Adams, and Graciela Iturbide from Mexico. She works in the tradition of social documentary—primarily in black and white, analog photography. Collaboration is essential to her process. The images, Quintana insists, would not be possible without her subjects’ willingness to reveal themselves.

Her initial project documenting a one-ring American circus took her over a decade. Following the same group of tight-knit performers, she embedded herself behind the scenes. Images from her series Circus: A Traveling Life have been exhibited around the world and were published as a monograph by Damiani Editore and distributed by D.A.P. Artbook Catalog in 2014.

Quintana’s portrait series Forget Me Not is an archival project inspired by her family’s immigration from Puerto Rico. Based on photo-booth images she collected from relatives, she recreated the backdrop and wooden stand to capture a variety of characters in her community. The collection has traveled to Washington DC and Norma continues to develop the project with hopes of returning to Puerto Rico for more research.

Quintana's recent Forage From Fire series documents the excavation of objects and memories after California wildfires destroyed her home and studio. Documented with her iPhone X as she sifted through the ruins, the images of jewelry, camera bodies, Christmas ornaments, pendants, doll parts, kitchen tools and picture frames represent not only a collection of memories, but also a path to recovery. 

Works from this series were exhibited in 2018 in a solo exhibition at SF Camerawork and included in group exhibitions in Sonoma and Napa, CA. Forage From Fire is currently included in the exhibition Facing Fire: Art, Wildfire, and the End of Nature in the New West at the California Museum of Photography through August 15, 2021