The distance of adolescence
Nothing calls to mind the passage of time more than a photograph.
Looking at old photographs or even photos from a
few seconds ago is to bear witness to the rush of
time. (Perhaps all the compulsive photo taking
these days is symptomatic of the accelerated time
in which we live? Maybe the thousands of photos
in a phone are a desperate attempt to stop things
or slow them down which paradoxically uses the
very technology that speeds them up?)
The singularity of the moment: It was and, now,
is no longer. Now is no more. The death already
in the photo. Maria Kontis draws this out of the
photograph - she draws the quiet catastrophe, the
life and death, we see in each and every image.
Two girls spinning on a bridge. A young skinhead
pressing a bottle to her lips. A mother and son
together and yet somehow separated across an
infinite divide. The boy. The man.
A photo holds the specificity of these moments
And its a little uncomfortable because a photo
both gives us back what was and eternally takes
it away.
These drawings reflect on the time we take. And
the time we lose. Not the photo but a relation to
the photo, they call up the distances and
differences that make up a life.
Look at the two girls at a party. They're lost
"in the moment." Two young girls who do not know
they are young; who do not know their sunny day
is passing, already passed.
And, one day, it will all seem so brief.
Opening Friday 9th January from 6 - 9 pm
Gitte Weise Gallery
Tucholskystrasse 47 - Berlin
Free admission