A tattooed, shirtless man lies in the back of an old car, his body draped over its dirty seats, covered in flowers, light spilling over his face and onto his hands. He looks into the lens, to viewers for connection, trust, or even a simple nod. A fallen chandelier sits on a wood floor - its glass crystals scatter in front of half-open bedroom doors decorated with a horseshoe – a failed good luck charm. A broken ankle, photographed next to its royal blue cast becomes a lifeless still life amidst glasses, flower petals, molding bananas, and a mysterious red powder.

Throughout Kristina Knipe's ongoing series "Talisman," photographed over the past few years within her community in New Orleans, people and objects flow in and out of various frames as signs and symbols of pain, yearning, hope, mortality, and the space between. Knipe constructs and photographs various environments - largely people’s homes and other personal spaces to better understand her own identity, her relationship to ritual and symbolism, her experience living in New Orleans, and as a means of deep collaboration.

After visiting Knipe’s New Orleans studio last December when I was in town for PhotoNola, we caught up to discuss the color, magic, and deep metaphors in her work.

Jon Feinstein in conversation with Kristina Knipe