| |
|
|
|
|
||||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
||||||
|
|
|
|
|
||||||
| |
|
|
||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||||
The place seems to belong to another
century; the atmosphere, the pace, the quietness are from another time. As I
walked in the old house I got the feeling that I had trespassed a frontier,
passed through a mirror. I had left behind me a busy street, noisy traffic and
hurried passer-by; I had entered a world where things happened at a different
pace. There was no pressure here, voices were kept down, I breathed a different
air. I was touched.
I came back with a camera and I tried to capture on film what had so much seduced
my soul. From these photographs I have created prints through which I want to
share what had so much moved me at the time. Was it the light coming through
the numerous windows? Was it the rows of violins hanging from the ceiling that
seemed to be heading to some distant place? Was it the rhythm created by the
repeated shape of the violins? Or was it just the shape itself of the violin?
I was confronted with the notions of time and art. Violin making goes back to
the sixteenth century like engraving. Violin making like printmaking has survived
centuries of technological change holding on to the traditions and integrating
new technologies.
Both workshops are refuges for artists while adapting to the constantly changing
world.
These works are about the permeability of art, about integrating new technologies
into a traditional medium. They are an effort to reconcile the old and the new,
the traditional and the contemporary.
|