Tanja Pak, may 2016
Each being, unique and the only one in its awareness and perceptions, takes part in creating the breathing of this world.
Each one of us lives inside the veil of their own transient world, filled with memories, emotions and yearnings, that as an individual, we each know and are responsible only for images inherent in our own world. No-one can ever fully encapsulate another’s world, not with one’s gaze nor one’s mind, and therefore mustn’t interfere with it or judge it. No two views can be alike, at best they can recognize each other and fleetingly pulsate with the same energy.
Broad spaces of solitude contain room for breathing. Inhalation and exhalation encompass our entire presence and, at the same time, awareness of absence in the sense of non-presence and yearning. All we share with others are reflections of light left behind by the transient world, translated into new harmonies. We each hear them differently, when prepared to sense them at all. But once perceived, they are valued for all there ever could be.
My work is a process of internalizing external impressions, translating visual, audio and tactile stimuli to an inner world of feelings and emotions, as an inhalation, and then their translation to a work of art, as an exhalation.
I try to capture emotions and the essence of thought, dreams, yearnings into the almost de-materialized matter, constantly searching for immensity and silence in vastness of actual landscapes, mirroring those inside my awareness.
I tend to reach below the surface, until the glass becomes merely the bearer of the stories, metaphors, expressions; a skin of my thoughts, a breath of my dreams and my longings.
I access and analyze them through photography in the sense of capturing a visual image, which becomes abstract, mostly due to its proportions. And through words, which sometimes capture these sensations in outpours of written notes, which are for me equally significant as the visual image.
I understand my spatial installations through dramaturgical perspective and through all senses; through matter, sound, light, touch, smell, and movement. Individual units become parts of a story of greater dimensions, inserted in a given space, which itself carries within mute testimony, inscribed on its surface like a palimpsest. They tell of eternal tension between subject and object, and yearning of the self. They are a search for breath, for inhaling and exhaling, for immensity and vastness.
This I searched for in the deserts and their whiteness, to understand that whiteness of any kind cannot be seen without shadow. Pure whiteness dreams for stains to wake it into presence. Shadows make things visible.
In my spaces of captured lights I build dimensions which offer dreamers space for their very own reveries.