Stephanie Teng’s Love Letter to the Moon

Photographer and artist Stephanie Teng’s works often revolve around the sun, the moon and the stars, but through searching for meaning in the heavens, she hopes she’s able to create a space for people to process their emotions.  

There is a sacred space between love and fear that allows for discovery to take flight. Humans have been fascinated by the stars and the heavens, long before organized religion and the technological possibilities of space exploration. We look up at the sky when we’re daydreaming, when we’re holding back tears, when we’re feeling hopeful or triumphant, in prayer, in ecstasy, in doubt or in wonder. Gazing upward is almost built into our psyche and behaviour, as if we were destined to imagine something beyond the human realm or trace the origins of our existence. 

It was this very instinctive act of looking up that inspired my work, Solace: a dance with the moon, 2020 and 8 Minutes From The Sun, 2021. Both series of photographic works were created over the course of two years, driven by a culmination of emotional responses to the Umbrella Movement and the pandemic. The images in Solace were photographed using the multiple exposure technique, in-camera, with no post-production, en plein air, handheld in the dark (or dusk). Because of the technical parameters I imposed on myself, the process required a rigorous stillness of the body and mind. I had to hold my breath for the duration of each image – as I “drew” my lens across the “canvas” of the sky, creating patterns within the frame. During the exhibition, the space was intentionally lit in a way that presented the illusion of a dark night sky, illuminated only by the moons on the walls. The opening night was also accompanied by music and spoken word poetry performances that brought people together for the first time in a long time after lockdown. 

Through searching for meaning in the heavens, I was able to find a sense of peace from within by looking outward and creating a space for people to process their own emotional journeys. Loneliness or grief only becomes dangerous when we feel like we are suffering alone. Similar to 8 Minutes From The Sun, Temple Of The Ordinary was a cave-like sound and light installation with found rocks, water and a mirrored floor with a blue light “in the sky” that spun endlessly on a loop, mirroring our negative cognitive spirals. I have always had an affinity with dark spaces because I fell in love with photography in the darkroom. It was a meditative space that transcended time or place and gave rise to clarity. In this day
and age, however, people often associate darkness with fear or other negative emotions rather than intrigue or mysticism. But if we look back at ancient Greek mythology, Chaos – “the void from which all else sprang” – gave birth to the primordial gods and was seen as a symbol of creation rather than destruction, of limitless possibility rather than nothingness.

Perhaps this is why I am obsessed with recreating this feeling in my work. As we watch ourselves enter an era of disassociation, escapism and anxiety-ridden parallel realities – I hope we won’t forget the wisdom that came before us. It’s easy to be caught up in the tides of change, but as Time flows by, it’s important to remember what it means to be human and create environments that hold space for people to safely sit with their pain; challenge their own comforts; and remember that life comes in natural rhythms, not algorithms. From our internal and external worlds to the planet we inhabit, if we learn to truly love it we will want to care for it. No matter what our method or madness, the hope is that we never forget that everything is connected, in this life or possibly, the next. 

So I hope you’ll choose love over fear, time and time again.