Joshua Woods presents a series of photographic sculptures from Woods’ personal journeys and commissioned projects. More than documents, these works act as windows of fleeting glimpses into the layered geographies of the African diaspora. Each moment becomes texture, multiplied across memory and place, forming constellations of presence.
Woods' practice is shaped by the influence of his grandfather, who created intricate sculptures and dioramas from salvaged materials while working in Detroit. That spirit of transforming the overlooked into vessels of memory continues in Woods' approach, as he frames traces, preserves presence, and finds meaning in what endures.
For Woods, the journey is a form of time travel. These worksare not fixed views, but passages and thresholds where the personaland the collective meet, and where ancestry and movement hum together across generations. His work moves between reality and the subconscious. A photograph may begin as a document of the visible world, yet in Woods' hands it becomes something more, a fragment.
Joshua Woods presents a series of photographic sculptures from Woods’ personal journeys and commissioned projects. More than documents, these works act as windows of fleeting glimpses into the layered geographies of the African diaspora. Each moment becomes texture, multiplied across memory and place, forming constellations of presence.
Woods' practice is shaped by the influence of his grandfather, who created intricate sculptures and dioramas from salvaged materials while working in Detroit. That spirit of transforming the overlooked into vessels of memory continues in Woods' approach, as he frames traces, preserves presence, and finds meaning in what endures.
For Woods, the journey is a form of time travel. These worksare not fixed views, but passages and thresholds where the personaland the collective meet, and where ancestry and movement hum together across generations. His work moves between reality and the subconscious. A photograph may begin as a document of the visible world, yet in Woods' hands it becomes something more, a fragment.