It began in Jelena’s bedroom as sparkly bits of color landed everywhere while asking strangers deep questions. The Confetti Project started as a photography series dousing humans in confetti while exploring: what do you celebrate? Confetti has been the worldwide symbol for celebration for the past 2,500 years but what if it was used as a tool for slowing down, checking in, and letting go? 4 cities and 4,000 people later, the work has evolved into a visual study on human identity and what happens when you cultivate a space for unencumbered self-expression.
#1: Getting glitter bombed at a party and it was everywhere for days. Takeaway: confetti is nostalgic. #2: Filled my pockets with floor confetti at an Ok-Go show. Takeaway: confetti is a beautiful mess. #3: I found it weeks later when I was feeling sad yet instantly felt joy. Takeaway: confetti is emotive.
(1) Find every confetti photo on the web. (2) Create a powerpoint and show them to people. (3) Observe what happens when you ask strangers what they celebrate. The result: eyes widen, conjures reflection and vulnerability.
In all of our lives, we come to a crossroads where you have no idea what you're doing but you feel like there's something you have a responsibility to explore. This was that moment for me.
Photographing my sister in the backyard of our childhood home kicked everything off. I wanted to see what would happen when creating an intimate one-on-one space. Looking back, I can't believe she went along with it. It's one of my favorite memories.
The goal: profile and photograph 50 New Yorker's in three months with confetti and make a coffee table book out of it. Other motives: learn photography and finish something for the first time in my life. This translated into 2-hour in-depth Q+A's and confetti portraits. Each photo-shoot was like a creative, emotional therapy session.
The dream: pitch a literary agent and make a bestselling coffee table book. I have one sample that sits in my studio - faded, fragile, with growing pages coming out. It was rejected but I did take her advice and developed the work without an expiration date. New motto: keep going.
This would be the beginning of the next year of my life, where my father would battle lung cancer and I would be on the sidelines in limbo for support and hope. In less than two months, he wouldn't be able to open his jaw, would lose 50 pounds and begin to unhinge.
This is a story
about a daughter’s unconditional
love for her
father.
AND HOW This work is inspired by his life and death. The Confetti Project is her grief, transformed.
I downgrade to a basement with no windows but I begin to price my services for the first time.
The format became a few minutes per person, single-file style where I connected with many people over many hours in public spaces. This opened a new lane to a larger audience. The first pop-up was free and sold-out.
I was ecstatic at the prospect of going outside of New York. A retail brand hosted and I charged $20 per ticket, barely covering production costs. Record confetti: 13 lbs! This would be the start of an LA audience.
Format: in the back of a retail marketplace for a week with a standalone installation and ticketed sessions in private. I took confetti portraits for three hours a day. Even though the pop-up was successful on paper, photographing 450 people in one week and editing it afterward took a massive toll.
I began to think about the future. Why did I start The Confetti Project? Enter Open Studios: bi-monthly mini-confetti sessions where participants came to my studio for portraits. It became the most consistent revenue stream that kept this work alive. I debuted it during December with four sold-out dates.
I imagine the headline would be: girl who loves to throw confetti on people gets to fly across the world to throw more confetti on more people because of never giving up and Instagram. It was a transformative week, working with a retail brand called Sauce and the Department of Tourism for an event at The Dubai Mall.
During the winter, I wrote a 368 page book called "Cancer&Confetti" that was my outlet for processing my grief. I pitched it to an agent who liked it but needed me to have a "bigger following" to match the ambition I had for it. I told her I'd reach back out to her once I hit 100K followers. 😂
The pop-up entailed connecting and photographing 400+ people in 4 days. This was during a time I was saying no to 95% of collaborations, vowing not to participate in the limiting narrative that my work was only "fun, cute instagrammable photos." On TCP's 5th birthday, this was a glimpse into the experiential space.
Milestone: after two years of producing bi-monthly events in my NYC photography studio, I hit 50 Open Studios. This meant photographing thousands of people, playing with dozens of background + confetti color palettes and collaborating with 100+ volunteers. It was a bittersweet feeling, realizing I had done so much without being able to ask for help. I needed a break.
This meant: canceling Open Studios, postponing future events, halting hiring a team and letting go of a studio space. The screeching halt of my work came to catalyze an identity crisis for me that, in hindsight, needed to happen.
I endured a deep, 3-month depression that dissolved when I forgave myself. When I'm hurting, I have a tendency to want to disappear so this spurred a year of reading about the parts of myself that I feel the most ashamed about. I held space for myself for the first time, ever.