bio
All images and texts are copyright protected, ©2026 Evelyn Lee
yun-yun: FAMILY ARCHIVE
35mm film photography, Taiwan, since 2021
concept and photography Evelyn Lee
Two years ago, my niece, Yun-Yun, was born. She is my big cousin's daughter, the firstborn of the next generation in our family. Thus, as she entered the world, curiosity and attention surrounded her. Initially, I was playing the role of one of her aunts. But during her great-grandfather's (our grandfather's) funeral, I discovered that Yun-Yun’s presence brought us varying degrees of happiness. Observing her innocent attempts at climbing stairs while dressed in mourning attire, or witnessing her sitting on a chair learning English from cartoons while the family folded paper lotus flowers to burn during the funeral rites, made me feel a profound connection. It was then that I began photographing Yun-Yun.
That's how the ongoing project yun-yun started. What started as capturing the playful moments of a two-year-old during a funeral evolved into a portrayal of our family after Grandfather's passing. The focus expanded beyond just our grandparents to include the entire extended family and the new phase of this residence. From then on, my first photographic work, ただいま (Tadaima), gained a meaningful continuation.
To my family, you’re all wise enough to know that death brings us more than loss.
Oct 28 1942
1943 (above), 1962 (below)
1963
1964 1965
1968, 1969, 1971, 1972, 1977
1997, a year before I was born.
October 13 2021
October 14 - Oct 27 2021
In our tradition, after a family member passes away, all the lights in the house are kept on to guide the spirit home. During this time, every room and hallway remains illuminated, recalling the lively atmosphere of Lunar New Year when we were young and our elders were still with us.
It feels as if we are revisiting those childhood memories in the two weeks between my grandfather’s passing and his funeral: the glittering temple fair, grandmothers setting up stalls and threading bead necklaces, children indulging in malt candy and seaweed-flavored Lay’s. Back then, the sunsets were a soft purple-blue, and the sky was clear.
2022 - 2023
3/2026
In 2026, after four years abroad, I returned home and shared a reunion dinner with my family for the first time in years.
During Qingming, I visited my grandfather’s columbarium for the first time.
The space was quiet. Standing there, his absence felt less distant, but more present in a quiet, steady way.
6/2026
The year I came home, we also celebrated my grandma’s 90th birthday.
In the same stretch of time, my grandpa passed away, I went abroad to study, and life just kept moving in ways I couldn’t quite hold onto. My grandma once randomly decided to dye her hair, because of course she did. She’s the kind of person who’s more committed to looking good than worrying about pain… which is exactly how she ended up breaking her leg, and then slowly working her way through rehab in her own determined way.
If my grandpa were still here, he’d be 92 this year.
Summer ‘s here again. The backyard is still full of life. Sometimes it feels like those late-90s summers are quietly playing in the background, as if there’s another version of life where my grandpa never left. My hair grew so long now after four years. It’s a little bittersweet that he never got to see me at 28.
But truly have to celebrate my grandma. Such a strong woman. 90——what a year!