‘The parts of life we don’t necessarily pay attention to are actually the parts that matter’ … the three children in hall at Easter.

‘I like the fact that this isn’t perfectly arranged. There’s the masking tape behind the eggs, the streamer hanging off the flowers, my son’s bright socks – all these elements preserve the veracity of the scene’

Most of our lives do not have the same level of drama as those in books or movies. Only a few situations are filled with that type of thrill, but most of our days are spent in routine activities. I want to transform them into something more significant, something that gives our life a deeper sense of purpose.

Three of my four children are represented in this picture. It was photographed in our home's hallway in Merion Station, a suburb of Philadelphia, in 2017. I always have my camera and tripod with me by keeping them beneath the sofa in the living room. It had just passed Easter. After returning from school, the kids were reading in the hallway. I enjoy how each of these three people is immersed in their own universe. When taking pictures of our kids, as parents, we often ask them to stand in a line, smile, and look directly into the camera. But in this case, it's not about them being adorable or having a family. They are the focus, in their own private areas and in their own imaginations.

The little youngster who is reading a book seems unaware that I am shooting pictures. The person looking at a map is deeply focused on it. It almost seems as if my daughter is studying the viewer rather than the other way around, based on the way she is cocking her head to the side and looking intently. There is a feeling of uniqueness, which intrigues me.

I gravitated toward the light. Arnold Newman, a US photographer, served as one of my first mentors. When I look at this, I'm reminded of what he said about illustrating people's lives with the help of the surroundings and any available light. Considering that our identities are built on our families, I especially enjoy how the children are grouped by their great-grandparents. The portraits serve to emphasize the fact that this is a household picture.

"I’ve always been drawn to northern European artists. Beneath the surface of their quiet images, everything’s happening"

I make an effort to photograph my kids as little as possible. They would get impatient if I constantly pulled out the camera. These photos aren't supposed to be photojournalistic; while my kids are aware of my presence, I attempt to work fast and deliberately to avoid making them feel "on."

I sometimes work in advertising, and those situations are well staged. That is not this. I like the vivid blue color of my son's socks, the bit of streamer hanging off the flower arrangement, and the masking tape you can see on the back of the eggs that are attached to the door's glass. All of those things are "wrong," yet they maintain the reality of the present, giving you the impression that this is a genuine home.

I was raised among art. My mother adored bringing my sister and I to art exhibits and historical sites. Artists from northern Europe, such as Van Eyck, Vermeer, and Holbein, have always captivated me. I anticipated spending much of my time studying beautiful paintings like Michelangelo's Italian tragedies while I studied art history. But when you look at photographs from northern Europe, you realize that everything is occurring under the surface of these serene shots and that the setting is crucial for expressing the story. I wanted to pursue painting. I was unintentionally placed in the photography class at school since there wasn't enough space for me in the painting class. I fell in love with the medium right away.

The other day I got a letter from a lady who had spent some time looking at my photos. She said they brought her to tears and inspired hope and beauty in our interactions with those closest to us. Maybe people connect with my art because they perceive its authenticity. That is what art does—it gives our life meaning. I want to use my work to explain the mundane, the aspects of life that we often overlook but which are really the most important. They will be the things that we reflect on at the end of our life.

Jessica Todd Harper's book Here is published by Damiani. Additionally, through January, her work is on display as part of the Kinship exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery-Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC.

Jessica Todd Harper