After 13 years, Zac Henderson (formerly) made a deal in a van, living full-time with his wife, back to the south, close to his family. “Even though there are many recognizable places for faces and places, my relationship with them has changed,” he said. “Like everyone who leaves home and then returns, I’m a different person. The size of the town also changes with the constant remake of the skyline, and we feel increasingly alienated.”
In the southeastern United States, the unforgivable feature of highways and forest areas is Kudzu. The invasive species was imported to North America in 1876, when it was included in the Japanese Pavilion at the Philadelphia Centennial Fair. Originally promoted as an ornamental climbing garden plant, Kudzu was later used as an agent to stop erosion on farms and graded roads. However, it also found hot, wet conditions ideal, and its aggressiveness was evident in the way it completely swallowed up the phone pole, trees and other plants.
“Kudzu was able to grow to a foot a day, known for its shackles on untouched structures,” Henderson said. The plant inspired the latest work titled ” final, From the idea of writing the material, which has been changed or layered through the new writing, but still contains snippets of the original content. He added:
Buildings and vehicles (if too long remains) may be replaced and reduce them to fluctuations under the suffocating leaf quilt. Even as a kid, I found its overgrown structure interesting. They look like non-threatening monsters, moving slowly through the landscape, looking for the next structure and patiently devouring the highway.
For Henderson, Kuzu represents the nostalgic and immediate distinction of the region, while also suggesting the uncontrollability of nature and time and its impact on the world around us. The bright red leaves are photographed in near infrared, which are familiar, while boldly surreal and weird.
Find more information on the artist’s website, Instagram and Behance.
