Scenes from an island
Bergmancenter Fårö June 24 - September 30
Midway in life, I found myself standing on the barren shores, a wild and rocky pile of land facing the Baltic sea. It was a strange uncompromising attraction. I saw my mother’s Swedish origin a stone’s throw away and father’s Cretan heritage merge into this one landscape.
I returned over and over again. At first it was only the landscape that I photographed. With time I populated the images, staging scenarios in various locations.
There are interiors and exteriors; landscape sans figures and landscape with figures transitioning through it. Bodies in motion contrasted to the desolate topography and its dramaturgy
— mountains that have corrupted, the earth, the water and the air. A contemplation on evanescence and transience; body, movement and the surrounding elements.
In 2002 my relationship was slowly falling apart. While trying to save our relationship it became obvious the break had become inevitable. As a way of documenting our last days together, I started making one photograph every night. The camera shutter was left opened for 3 to 8 hours every night in front of our bed in a darkened bedroom, and as the beginning morning light arrived the exposure was interrupted. It is a private journal, documenting time and memory, where present meets past.
Growing up in Sweden, I often felt torn between cultures: Sweden, Greece and Austria (where I was born). My father left early to start a new life in his native Greece. In 2007 he passed away in cancer, leaving behind property on the island of Crete. Being a woman, I was given the property with the least value — half of an olive grove up in the hills. Could I live in what had been given to me, in what had come to symbolize my roots and origin?
As an experiment I traveled to Crete to spend time in the grove and to explore my personal history. Essentially a diary — Grove is an investigation of time, and deals with the physicality, surface and ambiguities of the imaginary and material world. A metaphor for impermanence; my body asleep in the hammock, dissolves and re-materializes through night-long exposures.