Hooria Sanei’s A Menu of Memories is a visually striking and thought-provoking photography series that explores the fluid and fragmented nature of identity. Using a clever and evocative analogy, just as raw ingredients come together to form a dish, seemingly unrelated memories are combined to shape one’s sense of self. But while this dish appears whole, it is more of an illusion, an intricate collage that suggests unity while subtly revealing its own fractures. What makes this concept so compelling is that it extends beyond the personal and taps into something universal, making us question how all of our identities are shaped by time, experience, and the world around us.
Technique: Meta-Photography and Symbolic Composition
One of the most interesting aspects of Sanei’s work is her use of photographs within photographs, what I’d call meta-photography. By placing photoprints, locks of hair, and words on shredded paper into her compositions, she creates a tactile experience that makes memory feel tangible. This layering technique doesn’t just tell a story; it forces the viewer to engage with the way identity is constructed, piece by piece, layer by layer, much like a dish being prepared, served, and consumed.
As the series progresses, we’re invited to witness identity in motion, much like the preparation of a meal. At first, the plate holds memories that feel unified and whole. But as time moves forward, this unity begins to unravel. The memories start to appear fragmented, patched together in an increasingly disjointed way. What initially seemed like a smooth, cohesive self is now exposed as a patchwork of experiences, a striking visual metaphor for the way we build and rebuild ourselves over time.


Narrative Progression: A Journey Through Memory and Identity
The sequence of images tells a deeply personal yet universally relatable story. It begins with an empty plate, a blank slate, an identity waiting to be formed. Childhood memories soon emerge, seemingly harmonious and intact. But as time progresses, this cohesion fractures, giving way tounrelated and juxtaposed fragments, a striking representation of how identity is shaped, broken apart, and reassembled throughout life.
A particularly intriguing moment in the series is when the artist introduces words written on shredded pieces of paper, served on a plate as if inviting the viewer to metaphorically consume them. This could symbolise the struggle to communicate identity or perhaps an experience of being labeled and defined by external forces. The idea of “eating words” struck me as a powerful metaphor, one that many people can relate to, especially those who’ve been told who they are before they even have the chance to figure it out for themselves.
In subsequent images, altered family photographs present figures as empty silhouettes, their absence speaking louder than their presence. Images that immediately reminded me of a quote by James Joyce: ‘Absence, the highest form of presence.’ The missing figures don’t just signify loss; they create a haunting presence, an echo of people who were once there but are now only defined by their absence. This shift feels like a turning point in the series, marking a pivotal moment in the artist’s life, perhaps a separation from family or home, a rupture in identity that lingers in the empty spaces left behind.


The Final Dish: Questioning the Essence of Self
The last image in the series is one of the most thought-provoking. It presents two nearly identical photographs of the artist, one with long hair, the other with short, alongside a lock of hair that seems to have been freshly cut. This dish raises a fundamental question: Is our identity tied to our appearance? Or is it something deeper, more fluid, constantly shifting like a piece of wet clay placed upon a potter's wheel, shaped and constantly reshaped with the smallest touch of life experiences?
What then, this last dish calls into question, constitutes self? What is the unifying factor that gives us a monolithic sense of self? Is it memory? Is it an illusory image? Does it even exist? Is there such a thing as self? Or are we simply an amalgamation of our reflections in the world, like a dynamic collage that never stays the same? This final image challenges the viewer to consider what truly constitutes the self. Are we simply a collection of memories? Is identity an illusion we create to give ourselves a sense of coherence? Or are we, in the end, nothing more than a collage of reflections, constantly changing, never quite the same?
Conclusion
Hooria Sanei’s A Menu of Memories is an extraordinary meditation on identity, memory, and transformation. By blending deeply personal storytelling with universal themes and employing a richly symbolic and innovative photographic technique, she crafts a series that lingers in the mind long after the final image. This isn’t just a collection of photographs; it is a conversation about what it means to be human, to be shaped by time, and to continuously redefine ourselves. And in that way, it invites every viewer to take a seat at the table and reflect on their own evolving identity.
All the images belong to Hooria Sanei. You can read more about the project A Menu of Memories here.