I AM AFRAID I LOST MY GLOVE
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I was the one coming from the city and all the kids in the valley knew I was coming for the summer to stay with my uncle and aunt. They made me feel special. I could help to guide the cows; I was walking in front of them guiding them back home. Can you immagine this little thing walking ahead those gigantic cows? I was so proud.
My grandpa had two sisters based in Mannheim.
Their flat had been bombed,
only half of it survived the war.
They closed the open part with a gate.
From there you could look outside and see the giant hole in the ground left by the bomb.
Uncle Fritz and aunt Hella were based in the country, not far from Heidelberg. She lost her baby during the pregnancy. Since then they could not have kids. I used to stay with them in the summer, they were so kind to me.
I was playing with all the kids and my aunt was always able to reach me with a nice slice of bread with home made strawberry jam.
Impossible to find a delicious jam like that today!
My grandma was half Jewish.
You could notice that from her
dark hair and the big nostrils.
She was always very elegant;
she used to go to the
hair salon every two days to
make sure her nice little curls
were perfectly shaped.
After that she went to the
cantine for a little beer and
a pretzel with butter.
I used to visit my aunts during
my summer holidays. They
had two chickens in the flat.
I was sitting in the living room
and could feed them from my
hands; they always thanked
me with a fresh egg.
Bertha Heckart, that was my grandma's name.
I loved her, she was always preparing meals for all the family.
During the war she was trapped under the stones after a bombing but luckily they found her alive.
I wouldn't be here otherwise.
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The feeling is to be in a house where I’m finally able to understand where the windows and doors are located, I start to open them to look outside and let the outside light change the colours of the inside. That’s what I feel when I am working. I really like the process of giving a shape to an idea, to a concept. It’s like a journey, something exciting, sometimes painful.
A journey with many turns, a journey with different speeds, a journey who’s root is recorded in a memory map. Between birth and death that's where the memory field is, a record that should be kept safe to show us how it was, how it is and contribute for a better will be.
We are living in a time where everything is decaying very fast, everything appears and disappears often without leaving any traces, a card castle always very close to collapse on itself. That makes us always ready for what will come next without giving any real weight to what is the present and the past.
New York in the ‘70s with the banana project, Germany in the ‘50 through the lost gloves postcards with my mother memories, those are just two examples of my work
ondon kitchen film realised in May 2019 were I am looking back again at the ‘70 in a sort of conversation with Martha Rosler.
Looking back yes but not in a nostalgic way although in an analytical way trying to get the sense and essence of those falling leaves.
Ceramic, photography, videos, sounds and words are for me instruments of a common goal, look through and share what happened and what is happening. At the end it’s all about memories!