ABSTRACT
Family photographs may at first glance appear to have little in common with issues of justice and freedom for ex-residents of District Six. However, both speak of public and private, of remembering and mourning, of death and life, of absence and presence. They are both prone to multiple interpretations, as well as being at the cutting edge of contemporary and political debates. A seemingly innocuous object, a photograph is constituted of present – and absent – marks, a positive dependent on its negative for existence.1 It is paradoxical in its composition, being at once objective and invested, natural and cultural (Stubblefield 2009).2 The photograph as an image is important because it connects memories, histories and languages in a very real way. Photographs are never simply representations; on the contrary, they convey
sets of meanings that are embedded in very palpable social, political and economic frames.
