
As you may recall, I introduced the Exquisite Family Records here. Now, I am ready to start the series of Sunday posts on this fabulous story. We begin with the introduction of I.M. Anonymous.
Ignatius Maximus Anonymous (1900–1999)
Photographer of the Forgotten Century
Born on January 1, 1900, and vanishing—presumed dead, erased, or voluntarily dissolved—on December 31, 1999, Ignatius Maximus Anonymous is the mythical photographer-of-record for every unattributed image in the Exquisite Family Records.
He lived, as the story goes, precisely as long as the 20th century itself. He entered the world as an adult with the first day of the first photographic century of the common person—and departed on the very last day, as analog memory gave way to the digital void.
A Century of Looking
His name appears in no census. His studio was everywhere and nowhere. He never published a book, signed a print, or exhibited in a gallery. Yet the reach of his work is immeasurable. His images fill shoeboxes, thrift store bins, archival folders, and flea market envelopes across the globe.
Some claim he was a time traveler. Others suggest he was an alias used by millions. Some believe he was not a person at all, but the collective unconscious of amateur photography—a psychic signature left behind whenever a human being tried to hold on to a moment too fragile for words.
The curators of the Ontological Museum simply refer to him as “the necessary fiction.” A placeholder. A reverence. A ghost composed of shadow who left behind light.
His Role in the Archive
All unattributed photographs—especially those held in the Department of Photographic Records—are formally attributed to Ignatius Maximus Anonymous. His name does not denote authorship in the traditional sense, but rather acknowledges that:
These images were made.
Someone once saw this.
Someone once tried to keep this.
And now, no one remembers who.
By placing these images under his authorship, the Museum and the Exquisite Family Records assign them not to oblivion, but to a figure who honors their invisibility without erasing their dignity.
Through this attribution, the anonymous becomes exquisite. The forgotten becomes part of a larger, meaningful whole.
The Century Ends, the Work Continues
With his disappearance on December 31, 1999, Ignatius left no heirs, no will, no instructions. Only images. And silence. That is, except for his only known protégé Ilaria Exquisite with whom Ignatius left his trace, his perspective and his wisdom.
Ilaria is often seen on photographs as a silhouette of shadow, a reflection, a blur.
Some say he saw what was coming—that the age of digital memory would ironically erase not only names, but also presence in the age of the selfie. That photographs would multiply, but meaning and personal connection would scatter.
And so he vanished. Or perhaps returned to where he was always from: the quiet behind the camera, the blur at the edge of the frame, the shadow cast into the image.
Today, his legacy is carried forward by the Exquisite Family Records—not as documentation, but as an ongoing act where imagination replaces memory. His photographs continue to surface, and with each one, a new name, a new story, a new forgotten life is briefly returned to the realm of the seen.
From the Lost Manifesto of Ignatius Maximus Anonymous
(fragment recovered from the Bellweather Archive)
Archival Note:
From a torn page—unearthed inside an old accordion file—was tucked into the back of a warped wooden drawer labeled simply: “UNSORTED / DO NOT INDEX.” Scrawled in looping script and occasional bursts of type, the paper bears the mark I.M.A. and no date. What follows is a fragment from the Lost Manifesto of Ignatius Maximus Anonymous:
—Filed by: The Curator (unnamed at the time)
Photography, when unburdened by purpose, becomes prophecy.
I do not document life. I misremember it in advance.
A lens is not an eye, but a wound. Light enters. Time leaks.
A photograph should not make sense. It should resist the gaze like a locked door. Or a dream you almost remember.
The frame must tremble. The negative must lie.
I am not a photographer.
I am the thin veil between the seen and the unseeable.
Every image is a ritual of displacement.
Every subject is already lost.
If you find my work, you have already become part of it.
There are faces you do not recognize because they are yours in other dreams.
The Exquisites know this. They do not pose.
They appear."
– I.M.A.
Open Call for Participation
I have a project I have been working on that is keeping me busy, creative and excited and I want to invite you to participate in it.
You are invited to be a Field Agent or Field Correspondent for the Exquisite Family Records Archives. Conceived back around 2005, this is a newly sanctioned department in the Ontological Museum. Museum staff (the voices in my head) have been abuzz talking about it and building it out for months. I invite you to participate.
THE MISSION
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to gather - while out and about - 20th century photographs, particularly vernacular black and white silver gelatin photographs (nothing digital) only from the 20th century such as family snapshots, vacation photos, photo booth photos, photo albums, etc. and polaroid photos (black and white or color) that you consider interesting, peculiar, funny and worthy of a fictional story and donate them via postal service (and please include a hand written note acknowledging your gift) to:
Cecil Augustus Exquisite
4315 Rancho Largo RD. NW
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87120 USA
Include your return postal address and email address and a note.
IN RETURN
You will be acknowledged as a patron to the project, you name will be listed as the contributor of any photos used for the project and all such works will be inventoried into the Ontological Museum Archives - with your name attached - and included on the Museum’s annual inventory blog.
There is currently no deadline.
If you’re feeling extra generous, throw in a little cash for biometrics and/or become a VIP or founding paid subscriber to the Touchonian.
No. 6: Introduction: The Exquisite Family Records
Before I continue talking about the Ontological Museum, I will need to introduce you to a new department because future posts will be referring to it. Back on Sep 11, 2024 I posted an article where I asked ChatGPT to tell me about the Ontological Museum
Maybe the double x in Maximus is a nod to him spanning the 20th century…
The way you conjure Ignatius Maximus Anonymous as both a guardian and a kind of myth feels absolutely right for the subject. There’s something deeply moving about the idea that every forgotten photograph has its own silent witness, someone who both honors and protects those lost moments. I’m especially struck by the line, “A lens is not an eye, but a wound. Light enters. Time leaks.” It’s haunting and beautiful, and it lingers long after reading. I can’t wait to see how this series unfolds. Thank you for reminding us that even the unclaimed and unseen images still matter. I will participate!