foliage / Guillaume's Foliage merges found still-lives across time by combining multiple exposures on color negative film. By layering these temporal fragments, the work illuminates complex narratives that challenge conventional perceptions of ecological interconnection, revealing the intricate, often invisible threads that bind natural systems in constant dialogue.
mother /Influenced by watching his late Native American mother perform at Pow Wows, Guillaume observed how traditional regalia incorporates organic materials that move with the dancer, connecting individuals to the natural world. Using a large-format camera, he carefully arranges decomposing leaves, twigs, and plant fragments to appear frozen mid-gesture, creating compositions that pulse with life through deliberate positioning. This ongoing project explores how the suggestion of movement can breathe life into death, revealing the fragile boundary between our perception of existence and the constructed nature of life itself, while demonstrating how movement and environment connect us to our past.
north of the sea / North of the Sea documents Guillaume's photographic expedition along Norway's coastline, as he explores his wife's ancestral homeland. The project's defining moment came during a family crab fishing trip when he released a small bait fish back to the sea—only to watch a seagull immediately seize it. This encounter revealed the complexity of natural systems and the unintended consequences of human intervention. The series captures Guillaume's sway toward restraint: observing rather than manipulating, documenting rather than directing, finding stillness in simply what unfolds.
lost creek II /Guillaume's second iteration of Lost Creek continues his exploration of dried creek beds in the Mojave Desert. These layered black-and-white compositions transform quiet desert spaces into visual records of time itself, making visible the hidden patterns water has carved into rock and sand. The work tells the story of missing water through the traces it leaves behind, rather than freezing a single moment. Guillaume achieves this through a distinctive quadruple-exposure technique, shooting negative film four times at different locations along the same stream, creating ghostly, overlapping images that function like transparent layers revealing both reality and the camera's interpretation.
virgo / Virgo explores an imaginative possibility: what if light waves traveling through space carried visual echoes of the past? Inspired by the Virgo Supercluster—the massive collection of galaxies containing our Milky Way—Guillaume wonders if light might preserve and transport shadowed memories of moments that once existed, deep into space. This series translates that concept into photography, with each image beginning as a captured moment, yet ultimately manipulated, mirroring how hypothetical light-memories might evolve through cosmic journeys. Foremost, Guillaume asks whether our reality persists, traveling endlessly as recognizable echoes of what once was, contemplating the cosmic impact of our collective human experience.
lost creek / Lost Creek examines a dried Mojave Desert creek bed through multiple overlapping monochromatic exposures captured with a custom-built medium format camera. The layered compositions reveal water's ancient passage through stone by building each frame upon the previous one. This technique creates visual documentation of the landscape's accumulated history, showing centuries-old water patterns and erosion marks that are typically invisible to casual observation. The work explores the relationship between human perception and geological time. Rather than freezing single moments, the photographs present fluid sequences that suggest the ongoing motion of natural processes within seemingly static landscapes.
my father’s war / Guillaume explores how memory travels between generations, transforming surviving Kodachrome slides from his father's service during the Vietnam War into layered projections. These photographs, captured initially during active duty, document daily life and landscapes from his wartime deployment. Through layering, fragmenting, and reconstructing the original images, Guillaume reflects on how memory itself becomes fragmented and reconstructed over time,. Ultimately, Guillaume examines the space between personal history, how experiences are preserved, and how our past shapes narratives across generations.
after the storm / Guillaume speaks to his late grandmother about her gains and losses attributed to Hurricane Katrina.
never let me go / Guillaume's "Never Let Me Go: Memory Loss and the Archive" emerged from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. His grandmother's water-damaged photographic archive became a metaphor for memory's relationship with loss. Inspired to research other families without archives, Guillaume discovered an entire culture of archives being discarded after one's death. Repurposing the found 35mm estate-sale slides, Guillaume manipulates them as if a memory has been washed away, as if struggling not to be forgotten. Using a custom-made projection apparatus, Guillaume feathers the slide’s grain and contours to evoke both what was lost and what emerges from loss. This manipulation not only parallels his own family albums, but it also raises questions about the permanence of images.
protesters / Guillaume's "Protesters" documents civil rights activism through black-and-white silverprint portraits, creating a visual narrative that bridges past and present struggles for racial equity. His work focuses on the transformative story of the Engman Public Natatorium, which opened in 1922 as South Bend's first public swimming pool but operated under strict racial exclusion for fourteen years until the South Bend Chapter of the NAACP and community leaders began challenging discriminatory policies in 1931, ultimately achieving integration in 1950. Commissioned during the 2010 dedication of the Indiana University South Bend Civil Rights Heritage Center, Guillaume photographed local civil rights leaders who participated in South Bend's racial transitions, using silver gelatin prints that merge documentary methods with artistic composition. The former Natatorium now houses this installation alongside permanent exhibitions, having been transformed from a site of exclusion into a center for education and social change.