Time on my lap
Fotografia Digitale, Ritratto, Tecnica mista, 80x100cm
Time on My Lap
For ten years on, I have been repeating Ferenc Veress’ photographs on renown Transylvanian sites of architectural and geogarphic interest made in the second half of the 19th century. When I started this work I did not realize that by repetion several arches of time would appear: a five generations’ historic time, then a technical time as in photography these have been the years of transition from analogue techniques to digital ones, and finally a shorter, personal period of time.
Some of the picture-pairs seem to show a stagnating time, but we are aware that one hundred and fifty years embrace the endless story of five generations, in fact, the picture-pairs tell us about these invisible stories as well. They reveal what is invisible. I can show and tell family stories or respectively personal stories. I can repeat my grandmother’s 61 year old motion at the same place, then time goes by, the kolhoz stables built on my grandfather’s land vanishes away, fruit trees grow.
I was standing above the village. Its noises faded away in the distance, in the noon silence. The image spread in my eyes was entirely the same as the one on the old photograph in my hands. I was listening – hoping I could hear his voice.
The paragraphs above are mostly excerpts from my book The Photograph of Time written back this spring. I remember a morning, the Icelandic ash cloud probably reached the sky above Icland, spring was to come, from the light turned greenish by the blossoms a breeze entered my room fluttering the curtain – time seemed to bulge and sat on my lap.
I know if I go to Coltesti again, that silence will be Ferenc Veress’s voice.
For ten years on, I have been repeating Ferenc Veress’ photographs on renown Transylvanian sites of architectural and geogarphic interest made in the second half of the 19th century. When I started this work I did not realize that by repetion several arches of time would appear: a five generations’ historic time, then a technical time as in photography these have been the years of transition from analogue techniques to digital ones, and finally a shorter, personal period of time.
Some of the picture-pairs seem to show a stagnating time, but we are aware that one hundred and fifty years embrace the endless story of five generations, in fact, the picture-pairs tell us about these invisible stories as well. They reveal what is invisible. I can show and tell family stories or respectively personal stories. I can repeat my grandmother’s 61 year old motion at the same place, then time goes by, the kolhoz stables built on my grandfather’s land vanishes away, fruit trees grow.
I was standing above the village. Its noises faded away in the distance, in the noon silence. The image spread in my eyes was entirely the same as the one on the old photograph in my hands. I was listening – hoping I could hear his voice.
The paragraphs above are mostly excerpts from my book The Photograph of Time written back this spring. I remember a morning, the Icelandic ash cloud probably reached the sky above Icland, spring was to come, from the light turned greenish by the blossoms a breeze entered my room fluttering the curtain – time seemed to bulge and sat on my lap.
I know if I go to Coltesti again, that silence will be Ferenc Veress’s voice.
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