As always for my exhibitions, I made several
versions of the poster. But as never before, I could
not decide between the poster showing
the portrait of
my grandmother and that of my grandfather.
So I had them both
printed and distributed. History
had separated them once already ... I could not
do it myself...
"A One Hundred Lives Journey" is the
story of my family from
Tomnatic (Triebswetter) with roots in the Lorraine and the Schwarzwald in the 18th century. A history reconstructed
from photographs, documents and letters
found in an old box which I did not have the strength to open for many years. A late
but absolutely overwhelming understanding of what "leaving", "separation", "uprooting" really means. The
deportations of my grandparents to Russia, of my great-grandparents to the
Baragan, of my father to the Canal.
The duplication which you have to go through when you are forced to live as
dictated by HISTORY. But an equally deep understanding
that you can return "home"
even if there is
no home waiting for you, that the power of
faith and the survival of the Spirit
will save you even when History seems to have
taken you away every chance.
An
important component of this project was to
send works all
over the world, enabling the characters and their stories to travel freely, for the first time. So far works from this project have been presented in exhibitions
in Romania
(Timisoara, Iasi) or selected in
competitions and international events
(Rignac/ France,
Evora/ Portugal,
Madrid and the Canary Islands/
Spain, Klaipeda/ Lithuania Lousã
and Candal/ Portugal, Denton (TX)/ USA,
Lahti/
Finland).
Family Tree, The Family, The History
digital print, 100 x 70 cm
Roots
Roots
digital print, 40 x 50 cm
Duplication
Farewell. Forever.
March 18th, 1955.
My grandmother Aurelia Prinz says Farewell to her father, Dominic Haman. Recently returned to Tomnatic after four years of deportation to the Baragan, with their house, factory and land confiscated, my great-grandparents were forced to leave Romania permanently. Although my great-grandfather lived until 1964, my grandmother was never granted permission to see him again.
Roots up to the Sky
About my grandfather Ioan Nicolae Renard I knew
almost nothing. The only
information I had was a photo and a sentence of
the court declaring his death on 01.24.1946,
at the labor camp nr.1651 in Ufalo/ Russia.
One morning, a few months ago, I
was thinking of him again. That he
was probably mistakenly put on the list
of 68,000 persons of German origin which were
deported to Russia in January 1945, although he was of French nationality. And that he probably died of hunger, cold, exhaustion,
helplessness.
Suddenly, in the middle of my thoughts, a bird powerfully hit the window. I had never experienced something like this
before and I wondered if it might be true
that birds are messengers
of Heaven. The same evening I received absolutely unexpected
information about him ... I was
told that actually, in that camp, my grandfather committed suicide.
Roots up to the Sky
digital print 40 x 50 cm
Dream Catcher
The Yalta Treaty in February 1945 which put Romania under Soviet influence has
dramatically changed the country's history and fate of many families. In 1945,
at age 35, my maternal grandfather was deported to Russia along with his brother, his sister
and other 68,000 people. A few days after he turned 43, my paternal grandfather
committed suicide in labor camp nr.1651 in Ufalo/ Russia. In 1951, my great-grandfather
and great-grandmother were 68 and 66 years old when they were deported to the
Baragan, along with 40,320 other people, being forced to live in a hole dug in
the ground. At 18 my father was sentenced to four years hard labor on the Danube–Black Sea Canal,
where nearly 100,000 other people served many years for imaginary guilts. At
19, my mother was expelled from University, like many others in those days. Stories of life told in one phrase. But a phrase heavy as the world itself... or
as an endless forest where you don’t feel tour roots anymore and you don't see
the sky.
Dream Catcher
digital print 100 x 70 cm
Duplication
Duplication
digital print, 70 x 40 cm
Works selected for the 8th edition of Miniprint
Finland 2014.
Farewell. Forever.
March 18th, 1955.
My grandmother Aurelia Prinz says Farewell to her father, Dominic Haman. Recently returned to Tomnatic after four years of deportation to the Baragan, with their house, factory and land confiscated, my great-grandparents were forced to leave Romania permanently. Although my great-grandfather lived until 1964, my grandmother was never granted permission to see him again.
Farewell. Forever.
digital print, 100 x 70 cm
Selected for the 41st
edition of the Premio Internacional
de Arte Grafico Carmen Arozena 2013
from Spain. Exhibited at the gallery Brita Prinz Arte
in Madrid (what an extraordinary name coincidence!)
in October 2013 and
at the Palacio Casa Salazar of Santa Cruz from
Palma/
Canary Islands in November 2013.
From Russia,
with Love
My grandmother carefully preserved all the letters my grandfather sent her from Russia in a wooden box with a painted lid. I had a hard time deciding if I could dare to read thoughts definitely not addressed to me or if they needed to remain forever closed in that box. I found a letter of encouragement addressed to my grandmother, hastily written on the day of his deportation to Russia; postcards with the ink already faded away but with the "censored" stamp still intense as in the first day; a photo from the camp, where only the eyes remained alive in my grandfather once so handsome; a letter on a parchment so thin that the letters on one side and the other overlapped in a new script, almost incomprehensible; small pieces of paper sewn to each other, to hold as many words as possible. I learned that in Russian "skoro domoi" means "going home soon" and that these words were always pronounced in the hope that one day this will really happen. And I understood that, at some point, the hardest thing in life can be to find a piece of paper to write home.
Notre Père
Notre Père
digital print, 50 x 50 cm
Works selected and presented at
the International Project of Callygraphy &
Art of Penmanship - Callygraphy &
New Medias in Klaipeda / Lithuania, in September 2013.
Notre
Père, Vaterunser, Miatyánk, Tatăl Nostru, Pai Nosso (the Lord's Prayer)
My mother remembers that when she was a child, in Tomnatic the Lord's Prayer was still recited in French. It was also recited in German, and Hungarian, and Romanian ... but those who felt their roots still alive in the Lorraine of the 18th century had it ancestrally placed it in their souls in French. They left the Lorraine in 1770 hoping for a better life in Banat. They definitely marked a place on the map and they were brutally marked by history. They have come a long way… as a hundred lives ... And the thought of HOME to which you will finally return helps you detach from the body that lives in a hole dug in the ground, pushes wagons in a mine coal, digs the canal, dies of homesickness, or simply dies. It helps you detach from the body and immerse yourself in your Spirit and recite the Lord's Prayer in French, in German, in Romanian. But it really does not matter in what language you say the words... the important thing is that it saves you. Wherever you are.
My mother remembers that when she was a child, in Tomnatic the Lord's Prayer was still recited in French. It was also recited in German, and Hungarian, and Romanian ... but those who felt their roots still alive in the Lorraine of the 18th century had it ancestrally placed it in their souls in French. They left the Lorraine in 1770 hoping for a better life in Banat. They definitely marked a place on the map and they were brutally marked by history. They have come a long way… as a hundred lives ... And the thought of HOME to which you will finally return helps you detach from the body that lives in a hole dug in the ground, pushes wagons in a mine coal, digs the canal, dies of homesickness, or simply dies. It helps you detach from the body and immerse yourself in your Spirit and recite the Lord's Prayer in French, in German, in Romanian. But it really does not matter in what language you say the words... the important thing is that it saves you. Wherever you are.
Notre Père
digital print, 100 x 70 cm
The works in Romanian were shown at
the exhibition The Cross at the Golia
Monastery in Iasi/
Romania,
in October 2013. The ones
in French were selected and presented at the International Project of Callygraphy
& Art of Penmanship
- Callygraphy &
New Medias in Klaipeda / Lithuania, in September 2013.
The works in Portuguese were created in memory of my father who wanted very much to see Portugal but died shortly before the trip. They were exhibited in Portugal, in the streets of Candal and distributed to the people in Lousã, as part of the Papergirl Portugal project in September 2013.
The works in Portuguese were created in memory of my father who wanted very much to see Portugal but died shortly before the trip. They were exhibited in Portugal, in the streets of Candal and distributed to the people in Lousã, as part of the Papergirl Portugal project in September 2013.
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