Temporary Rest
On the one hand, photographing scenes of war or a refugee crisis
is crucial because there has to be some kind of documentation of
turbulent times. On the other hand, it is a saturated genre. We all
know the tropes: crying children, snapshots of violence, people
departing from or arriving at train stations. Another problem I faced
when trying to cover the Ukrainian refugee crisis was how can
I, as an outsider, stay humane with the people that are put in a
vulnerable position and still grasp something essential about the
unfolding crisis. After all, photographing is an intrusive act, and the
last thing refugees need is an art student snapping their camera at
the train station or at the refugee shelter.
is crucial because there has to be some kind of documentation of
turbulent times. On the other hand, it is a saturated genre. We all
know the tropes: crying children, snapshots of violence, people
departing from or arriving at train stations. Another problem I faced
when trying to cover the Ukrainian refugee crisis was how can
I, as an outsider, stay humane with the people that are put in a
vulnerable position and still grasp something essential about the
unfolding crisis. After all, photographing is an intrusive act, and the
last thing refugees need is an art student snapping their camera at
the train station or at the refugee shelter.
With these concerns in mind, I photographed around 30 temporary
beds in Záhony’s refugee shelter. The beds, shot from above, are
like canvases. On them, a whole microverse is present: some beds
are done, some are chaotic. Some come with cheap dolls, some
come without. Some are vivid and colorful, others are lifeless.
beds in Záhony’s refugee shelter. The beds, shot from above, are
like canvases. On them, a whole microverse is present: some beds
are done, some are chaotic. Some come with cheap dolls, some
come without. Some are vivid and colorful, others are lifeless.
Installation at OFF Bratislava, 2022.
