Melissa Kreider (b. 1993) is a recent MFA graduate of The University of Iowa and holds a BFA in Photography from the University of Akron. Melissa’s work examines sites of sexual violence against women and how the justice system archives these reports as well as the evidence that is collected. Her work has been exhibited and published nationally and internationally. Melissa Kreider is a Graduate Teacher of Record at the University of Iowa, in the Art and Art History Department. She reads more books then she should and owns two cats; a hardened street cat named Asphalt, and a cat with thumbs named Valentino. Melissa is the founder and curator of Don’t Smile, an online space dedicated to showcasing photography by women artists. Click through to Don’t Smile here.
Hamidah Glasgow: The images in Remnants are quiet and thoughtful while dealing with a scourge that is anything but quiet and thoughtful. How did you come to the conclusion to photograph it this way?
Melissa Kreider: The aesthetic in my images has a lot to do with my attraction to natural light at dawn. As I barreled forward with creating Remnants, I questioned whether I should be documenting this disturbing topic in such an aesthetically pleasing way. In the end, I decided to stay true to my way of photographing and use beautiful imagery as a way to pull my viewers in and keep them looking, hoping to spark a conversation about sexual and domestic assault.
Melissa Kreider: The aesthetic in my images has a lot to do with my attraction to natural light at dawn. As I barreled forward with creating Remnants, I questioned whether I should be documenting this disturbing topic in such an aesthetically pleasing way. In the end, I decided to stay true to my way of photographing and use beautiful imagery as a way to pull my viewers in and keep them looking, hoping to spark a conversation about sexual and domestic assault.
HG: How did you choose this topic to photograph?
MK: I chose to begin Remnants due to my own personal experiences with rape. My assault occurred in my parents’ house in a quiet, middle-class, suburban neighborhood. Examining real-world sites of sexual and domestic assault seemed like a natural jumping-off point for the work as I observed the widely held belief that those instances occur exclusively in “bad” neighborhoods or that sexual assault only happens while walking home alone at night.
From there, I created a linear narrative of the steps of reporting sexual and domestic assault through my images. This investigation is what led to Remnants - images of the sites of sexual and domestic assault, pieces of a rape kit, the backlog, testing labs, and survivors themselves.
MK: I chose to begin Remnants due to my own personal experiences with rape. My assault occurred in my parents’ house in a quiet, middle-class, suburban neighborhood. Examining real-world sites of sexual and domestic assault seemed like a natural jumping-off point for the work as I observed the widely held belief that those instances occur exclusively in “bad” neighborhoods or that sexual assault only happens while walking home alone at night.
From there, I created a linear narrative of the steps of reporting sexual and domestic assault through my images. This investigation is what led to Remnants - images of the sites of sexual and domestic assault, pieces of a rape kit, the backlog, testing labs, and survivors themselves.
HG: Rape and sexual assault are complicated by the lack of seriousness with which police departments, colleges, and universities treat the victims and the assailants. Can you talk about this?
MK: Absolutely. Each case is complex in their circumstances, but the institutions set in place for helping victims are incredibly problematic. Currently, there are an estimated 700,000 backlogged rape kits in police storage. A backlogged kit refers to a rape kit that has been booked into evidence and has failed to be sent for foreign DNA (not belonging to the victim) testing within 30 days. The age of the kits in the United States’ backlog ranges anywhere from a few months to several decades old.
How was the backlog able to grow so extensive? There are no national guidelines for how a kit should be processed. This is an example of the unchecked power of police officers and detectives, as they make the ultimate decision on whether or not a kit should be sent for testing based on if deem it a “legitimate” rape.
Furthermore, colleges and universities are not trained to be first responders to the scene of sexual assault, let alone counsel a victim, help them navigate the justice system, or give them the space to report. In institutions like this, the idea that “kids will be kids” paired with alcohol and/or party drugs leads to a lack of seriousness when dealing with men or women that have been raped or stalked on/off-campus. To read more about the epidemic of sexual assault on campus, I urge you to read Missoula by Jon Krakauer. It’s both deeply troubling and sheds a comprehensive light on universities giving themselves power of the court when assault occurs on-campus, especially in cases where promising athletes are involved.
Laws to create guidelines to process rape kits in a timely fashion and protect victims of sexual and domestic assault have appeared in the House. But, they have either been stopped in their tracks or moved to the Senate at a glacial pace. For me, it is heartening instead to look at the social change in the stigma surrounding assault due the #MeToo movement.
MK: Absolutely. Each case is complex in their circumstances, but the institutions set in place for helping victims are incredibly problematic. Currently, there are an estimated 700,000 backlogged rape kits in police storage. A backlogged kit refers to a rape kit that has been booked into evidence and has failed to be sent for foreign DNA (not belonging to the victim) testing within 30 days. The age of the kits in the United States’ backlog ranges anywhere from a few months to several decades old.
How was the backlog able to grow so extensive? There are no national guidelines for how a kit should be processed. This is an example of the unchecked power of police officers and detectives, as they make the ultimate decision on whether or not a kit should be sent for testing based on if deem it a “legitimate” rape.
Furthermore, colleges and universities are not trained to be first responders to the scene of sexual assault, let alone counsel a victim, help them navigate the justice system, or give them the space to report. In institutions like this, the idea that “kids will be kids” paired with alcohol and/or party drugs leads to a lack of seriousness when dealing with men or women that have been raped or stalked on/off-campus. To read more about the epidemic of sexual assault on campus, I urge you to read Missoula by Jon Krakauer. It’s both deeply troubling and sheds a comprehensive light on universities giving themselves power of the court when assault occurs on-campus, especially in cases where promising athletes are involved.
Laws to create guidelines to process rape kits in a timely fashion and protect victims of sexual and domestic assault have appeared in the House. But, they have either been stopped in their tracks or moved to the Senate at a glacial pace. For me, it is heartening instead to look at the social change in the stigma surrounding assault due the #MeToo movement.
HG: Is this body of work finished or are you still working on it?
MK: Remnants is finished and I’m in the research & development stage of a new body of work that further delves into intimate partner violence and the justice system. I am collaborating with countless organizations that I built a relationship with in the process of making Remnants in order to gain the access I need to make this work. Stay tuned.
MK: Remnants is finished and I’m in the research & development stage of a new body of work that further delves into intimate partner violence and the justice system. I am collaborating with countless organizations that I built a relationship with in the process of making Remnants in order to gain the access I need to make this work. Stay tuned.
When viewers walk into this exhibition or view it online, what questions do you hope they ask themselves about the work?
I believe viewers will respond strongly to the work of Priya Kambli, Rania Matar, Zora Murff, Lissa Rivera, and my own as a group. Each body of work serves to enlighten viewers to a particular demographic of people or current social subject. The viewer might respond most strongly with the work about the refugee crisis, juveniles in the justice system, survivors of assault, gender politics, or immigration and objects that they might own that correspond to precious memories. Regardless of which works resonate the most with each individual, I hope they ask themselves how they can be more active citizens, or what it would be like to live the lives of the subjects represented in the pieces.
In terms of viewers who see Remnants, I strive for them to simply consider the fact that they most likely know someone in their life that has been directly affected by domestic or sexual assault. I want them them to question what they can do in their own personal lives to assist survivors of domestic or sexual assault or even generate a dialogue within their friend groups or communities about steps that can be taken to prevent crimes such as these. If there are survivors viewing the work, I hope they find themselves comforted by the images of survivors like themselves and feel a sense of solidarity.