In this work I explore the relationship between home and identity. I have an ongoing fascination with migration from an existential perspective. How does one’s core being adapt when the scaffolding of family, profession and community are no longer there? Many of us are moving across the globe, fractured from, but carrying the DNA of, our home. Whether because of voluntary relocation or cruel displacement, we are challenged to adopt all of humanity as family. In this pilgrimage we are vulnerable but we carry talismans for luck and to remind us of who we are. Fragments of sounds, smells or a song hit us right in the gut without warning. We uncover the essence of who we are, of how we connect to all of existence.
My Dutch mother was born and raised in Indonesia. As a young girl she, her mother and her sisters spent four years in a Japanese prison camp. A bed sheet was one of the most valuable possessions one could have; it could be used for so many things. The sheet for me symbolizes home, a personal shroud, a hiding place, a way to dress a wound. It can be shredded, knotted, woven, braided, sewn. It can be used to attach, wrap, hold together, cover, preserve. It can be transformed in endless ways.
Recently I moved from the constant flow of New York City, to the Danish countryside were people often stay in one place for many generations. I strive to create a visceral connection with this community, and to try and feel the specific energy of this land. For this work I sourced local, donated bedsheets and shoes, and collected seaweed, wood, and clay.
Tråd og Forbindelse (Thread and Connection) 2020
Used bedsheets, clay, plaster, paint, seaweed, metal, wood, fiber