The very first thing that I saw in Skopje was the construction of a 25-meter tall figure of a warrior on horseback which, from what I later found out, was the statue of Alexander the Great.
“Push the Sky Away” is a triptych, with each part of the work the consequence of what has gone before, as well as leading on to the next. It is a creative path that has given me an interest in the primeval cultures from which our own cultural codes have grown. As a consequence I attempt to extract an underlying structure, which I believe is unchanging and unchanged. My feeling is that this lies within the tradition of the emotions, rituals, and behavior – elements which are shared in common across all cultures, and to which photography has access.
My father says I am a person from the “lost generation”. He says that we are too lonely, too withdrawn, and constantly change masks creating an illusion of life.
I am sitting by the window, looking at another faceless, bleak panel house. Every day and every night this ridiculous block of flats, a shelter for thousands of anonymous lives, stares at me with its empty eyes, not letting me forget about where I will return.
Ira Thiessen researches a complex identity of Russian Germans who returned back to their historical motherland in the series of staged portraits “Privet Germania” (Hello, Germany).
After 30 years of the Chernobyl disaster Jadwiga Bronte documents the lives of people who suffer the consequences of the tragedy. The Polish-born photographer follows a group of disabled people who are living in “closed governmental institutions called ‘Internats’ which are something between an asylum, orphanage and hospice”. Internats are hidden from public view, and even some Belarusians themselves are unaware of the reality of life inside. These are places where tens of thousands of people spend their entire lives.
Alban Kakulya shows in his work “Environment and Security in Crimea” the homeland of the Crimean Tatars. In 1944 the tatars were deported to the exile under the rule of Stalin. He accused them of the collaboration with the nazis. 200.000 Tatars lost their home in one night. Many of them died and the population of the Crimean Tatars decreased dramatically. Not till the collapse of the Soviet Union in the 1990’s they were allowed to come back to their actual homeland. A lot of Tatars, also from the second Generation, decided to move back to the crim. But their formal home was now occupied by Russian and Ukrainian habitants.
Going over some old archival photographs, I couldn’t get rid of the strange feeling for some reason: people lived here their life and then died. Older you get, less emotion the photos cause. But the existential horror groves stronger. A few days ago I read that the Crimean authorities „banned the electronic music festival “Kazantip ” because of numerous violations of the law, including a lack of fire-prevention and anti-terrorism measurements.”