In pursuit of a drifting rear view
a collaborative exhibition
21 March - 25 April 2026
Opening Reception:
Saturday, March 21, 6-9pm
Curated by Natessa Amin
︎ FJORD (1720 N 5th St G2)
Opening Reception:
Saturday, March 21, 6-9pm
Curated by Natessa Amin
︎ FJORD (1720 N 5th St G2)

In pursuit of a drifting rear view begins with a shared departure—an impulse to move outward and travel the road into diverse landscapes. The photographs in this exhibition were made during a road trip taken by Ava Hassinger and Christina Kerns in May 2025. Much of their drive was spent traveling across the American interior, exploring the landscape, memories and a sense of drift.
The exhibition presents an installation of images of various scales as they gather into an immersive field where perspectives pool and overlap without settling into a single view. As distance accumulates, perception begins to shift. Landscapes change, time compresses and stretches, and attention flickers between what lies ahead and what is already receding. The accompanying text extends this structure, moving between the artists’ voices in a back-and-forth that echoes the layering of images in the gallery.
What emerges is a record of a shared physical experience felt, and therefore seen, differently. Together, image and language hold possibilities open—spaces where memory, place, and perception continue to shift long after their return home.
– Natessa Amin, Curator - Fjord Gallery
The land transitions from lush green to sweet brown, cinnamon
ash. Sometimes it is red or burnt umber. Sometimes it is white or
yellow. It is dry. It is hot. Is this the edge of civilization?
The front of the car and windshield are matted with bugs.
Naturally, because there is so much driving, the road becomes
redundant. The mind wanders - highway hypnosis. We listen to
music or some audiobook to pass the time. With the coastline now
behind us, a quiet unease feels present. . The sky opens up in
Oklahoma, but the world becomes flat- sort of. It gets flatter as
you go west. Then mountains appear.
Our burning eyes adjusted to the dry heat around 2000 miles into the
trip, somewhere between New Mexico and Arizona. We were far enough
away from home to drift in the liminal space between our thoughts
and the unfamiliar landscape. Looking out through the windshield,
our focus softened to glance in the rear view, and ahead again.
Another luggage cart overflowing with camera bags, tripods and
suitcases, continental breakfast, refuel, shoot, click click
click, download, charge, gas station snacks, water, audiobook,
silence, cruise control, new time zone.
What time is sunset here?
If you are facing north, there is a part along the Grand Canyon
trip, somewhere between New Mexico and Arizona. We were far enough
away from home to drift in the liminal space between our thoughts
and the unfamiliar landscape. Looking out through the windshield,
our focus softened to glance in the rear view, and ahead again.
Another luggage cart overflowing with camera bags, tripods and
suitcases, continental breakfast, refuel, shoot, click click
click, download, charge, gas station snacks, water, audiobook,
silence, cruise control, new time zone.
What time is sunset here?
that looks like it repeats infinitely-a Droste effect in rock. A
most majestic abyss. It might be altitude sickness or just
general delirium from traveling - our sense of self begins to
slip. We are time-traveling: first forward, then backward-
wandering, and getting lost. We find a black widow spider
hibernating in the grill. I think every hole in the desert ground
are homes for snakes ready to leap out and bite. We unwind in the
Airbnb hot tub, watching “Satellites?” cascade in unison across
the night sky, wondering if this is it. The aliens have finally
come to take us.
We drove together on the same road, two women from Oklahoma
and New York. Our disparate histories reflected on the
landscape. Once in a while our lenses converged on the same
voids and mounds surfacing the country: Memphis, OKC, Roswell,
Sedona, Joshua Tree, Vegas, Moab... Memories floated in and out
of our consciousness as we created new ones, attempting to
make the juncture tangible through a photograph. You are drawn
to the landscape while I gravitate to the constructed. You to
natural vibrancy, and me, the artificial. On occasion, the
definition becomes indistinguishable.
and New York. Our disparate histories reflected on the
landscape. Once in a while our lenses converged on the same
voids and mounds surfacing the country: Memphis, OKC, Roswell,
Sedona, Joshua Tree, Vegas, Moab... Memories floated in and out
of our consciousness as we created new ones, attempting to
make the juncture tangible through a photograph. You are drawn
to the landscape while I gravitate to the constructed. You to
natural vibrancy, and me, the artificial. On occasion, the
definition becomes indistinguishable.
About the Artists:
Ava Hassinger’s interdisciplinary practice joins photography, video, and sculpture to explore the relationship between the body, technology, and screen-based experiences. Her work has been featured in exhibitions including Composed Matter at FJORD, Philadelphia; Slow Burn at the John H. Baker Gallery, West Chester University; Extra Parts at Good Children Gallery, New Orleans; and Descent at the Institute of Contemporary Art, Philadelphia.
Hassinger is an Assistant Professor of Visual Art at Lincoln University, where she teaches courses in graphic design, branding, and professional art practice seminars. She holds a BFA in Photography and Imaging from New York University and an MFA from the University of Pennsylvania.
https://avahassingerresearch.cargo.site/
Christina Kerns is a photographic artist working with alternative printing techniques, net art, and printed matter. She received her BFA in Photography with a minor in Art History from Pratt Institute and an MFA in Interdisciplinary Art from the University of Pennsylvania, PennDesign. She has presented solo exhibitions at The University of South Carolina, Marshall University, Lyon College, and Hope College, where she was the 2024 Borgeson Artist-in-Residence. Her work has also been exhibited in two-person and group exhibitions nationally and internationally.
Kerns’s work explores the role of photography in constructing and preserving personal identity. Her work often references the translation from virtual to physical space through material gestures. She is currently an Associate Professor at Lincoln University, PA, and lives and works in Philadelphia.
https://www.christinakerns.com/