Izabella Provan
Izabella Provan is a photographer living in Portland, Maine. She received a BFA from the Maine College of Art in 2015. Her images examine privacy, space, censorship, and contradictions in gray areas. Utilizing analog, digital, and experimental processes, Provan is concerned by an isolated existence and makes work that inspects the middle ground in the presence of anticipation, the fear of the unknown. Her work has been shown nationally and internationally by the PhoPa Gallery in Maine, the Polygon Gallery in North Vancouver, Canada, as well as in an innovative exhibition for localhost.gallery. Provan is a recipient of the first MESH Exhibition Grant from the Buschlen Mowatt Nichol Foundation and has been published in publications including Wilt Magazine and Papersafe Magazine. She currently works as the Media Technician for the Maine College of Art & Design.
Artist Statement
Buildings Well Rot Ceilings Will Crumble
The ceiling is dripping swelling.
I heave a sigh.
Buildings
Well
Rot
Ceilings
Will
Crumble
Now, more than ever, I think I understand photography. Time paused. Observe. Observed.
Try to see what is happening right before my very eyes.
All buildings will crumble
one day.
Without upkeep, check-ins, concern
it will all fall apart
slip through fingertips
watch as what I can’t score
splits.
What happens if we let it dissolve?
Will our indents, marks, remember, remain?
or will
Soiled
Water
Seep
into the silt
a zone for exclusion
a foundation in ruin.
Buildings Well Rot Ceilings Will Crumble are images that grew out of decay; angry thoughts in a time of desperation soon became pressure exposed to shift a foundation.
Inside this project, you will find exposures taken near suspicious structures and along river beds. When ruin is inevitable, a certain type of magic is yearned.
Release Date: April 11, 2025
This image was taken on top of a mountain’s summit. Usually I would expect a view, something to look forward to, somewhere with clear air to clear my mind. It was dark. It was beautiful? It could not wash everything away.
Night Marsh, 2020