In these small, found photographs, purchased from a second-hand store, Stumpf scrawled, scratched, and obscured the faces of the people.

The lacerated and abstracted figures become less familial and more symbolic of memory; loss; loneliness; aging; and, ultimately, death.

The title comes from a line in The Book of Poverty and Death, the third book in Rainer Maria Rilke’s Book of Hours.