There was a girl like me.
The memory is composed of memories and evidence, but there is nothing clear about its design, just holes, holes, and floors. This project shows the concept of continuous mobility and memory flexibility through the personal history of the artist. The starting point for the project was to work with a family photo archive that contains a lot of photos without signatures and fragments of cut images, as if it were a recorded trace of a desire to rewrite history.
Photo series
Retrieving the evidence that wasn’t destroyed led to attempts to fold, repair, and hold together the matter of memory. This led to a series of photoworks consisting of reprinted photographs in large format, torn and then gossiped back together.
Video article
The visual language of the video college reflects the wrinkle of memories and shows that memory is made more of a hole and an inaccuracy that is almost impossible to fit into a consistent history. The video recorded the stories of four women from the same family: mothers, two sisters, and the authors of the project. They all recall who is in the picture and what events are recalled in connection with this picture. The stories come together and differ, repeating each other somewhere else, without even crossing each other. The artist herself says it’s definitely not her, it’s the other person she doesn’t know.
Trying to understand the interlockings of family stories, finding displaced and cut pieces leads both the author and the audience to become more and more knitted to the abundance of detail and inaccuracy, sinking into the impossibility of finding a complete, complete version of the story
