Archival pigment print mounted on aluminium Dibond.
One Size Only / 127 x 127 cm / 50 x 50 in
Hand-signed by the artist, with title, date, and edition number inscribed in ink on an archival label affixed to the reverse side of the mounted photograph
“My Only Ticket Home” distills generational love and legacy into a single, intimate scene. In a softly lit living room, a father in a pressed pilot’s uniform kneels before his child, gently placing his own cap upon the young head. The air is thick with meaning: pride, the silent passage of dreams, the anticipation of journeys, and the anchor of home.
The child’s posture, at once tentative and dignified, radiates reverence and curiosity, standing not just before a parent but before possibility itself.
Faded upholstery, a lone suitcase, family portraits on rich brown paneling—all hint at travel, memory, and the deep roots of belonging. The images on the wall stand as silent sentinels, grounding the act of passing down a uniform within the broader archive of family, history, and the enduring Ghanaian spirit.
Idun-Tawiah’s lens is attuned to these quiet seismic shifts, where community, tradition, and aspiration converge. Inspired by Ghana’s visual history and his own upbringing, he treats the ordinary as sacrosanct, illuminating how the bonds between father and child are woven from the past yet aimed at tomorrow.
Here, flight is both literal and metaphorical—the journeys undertaken to build a future, and the home that anchors every return. “My Only Ticket Home” affirms that true inheritance lies not in material possessions, but in the careful passing on of hope, courage, and love: to carry forward the stories that shaped us, and to find, in the people we cherish, our only true ticket home.
“My Only Ticket Home” distills generational love and legacy into a single, intimate scene. In a softly lit living room, a father in a pressed pilot’s uniform kneels before his child, gently placing his own cap upon the young head. The air is thick with meaning: pride, the silent passage of dreams, the anticipation of journeys, and the anchor of home.
The child’s posture, at once tentative and dignified, radiates reverence and curiosity, standing not just before a parent but before possibility itself.
Faded upholstery, a lone suitcase, family portraits on rich brown paneling—all hint at travel, memory, and the deep roots of belonging. The images on the wall stand as silent sentinels, grounding the act of passing down a uniform within the broader archive of family, history, and the enduring Ghanaian spirit.
Idun-Tawiah’s lens is attuned to these quiet seismic shifts, where community, tradition, and aspiration converge. Inspired by Ghana’s visual history and his own upbringing, he treats the ordinary as sacrosanct, illuminating how the bonds between father and child are woven from the past yet aimed at tomorrow.
Here, flight is both literal and metaphorical—the journeys undertaken to build a future, and the home that anchors every return. “My Only Ticket Home” affirms that true inheritance lies not in material possessions, but in the careful passing on of hope, courage, and love: to carry forward the stories that shaped us, and to find, in the people we cherish, our only true ticket home.