“Crossing kingdoms”

Told from the perspective of a compulsive walker, “Crossing kingdoms” is a quest through space and time, through late October streets, through the impermanence and transience of forms and phases. As the movement goes on, as the “walk” continues, things pop up over and over again in a predictable way yet with random accidents, taking on and leaving forms, taking on and abandoning functions.

Autumn is a primordial soup of possibilities to come, the sowing of the seeds. Each time it comes around, old pieces, “stuffs” are gathered together and recycled by nature to create a new arrangement, which will show its new face in spring. Recycled elements end up all over the place, they cross kingdoms (mineral, animal, vegetable), end up being parts of a new form, a new configuration. They’re transformed for the sake of this infinite movement, this cycle, this walk to keep going on. This movement has no end, only transformation, old familiar forms morphing into something else in a world where nothing is lost. Sweet wrappers become trees, people, houses, memories.

 

“Memories of a morning walk” uses the very leaves we walk on for a recreation of a memory, a fragile sequence of moments along a path through time and space. The image is as fragile and uncertain as the memory it tries to recreate. “Fellow travellers” introduces a human form, encountered along this walk as accidentally and rapidly as it’s passed and forgotten. Who the form is will forever remain unknown, and is irrelevant. In “Memories of a morning walk, turning the corner”, we meet old sweet wrappers, familiar to those who had a childhood in Russia – as autumn trees on the side of a road, a road layed with our old friends, crushed leaves. In “Braderie weekend” we have a change of perspective – the compulsive walker becomes a passive observer while the walk is performed by each passer by. At first sight, a bright, happy image of an event where old objects find new homes, where once again the use of materials comments on the equality between all organic, non-organic and human-made elements, crossing kingdoms. Only in this social context, full of excitement of a potential bargain and a desire to grab a form rather than let it pass, the shine and the blinding colours of the wrappers might be distracting from the fragility, deterioration of the world in which all elements are slowly turning to junk; as well as from a coming storm – of which only the low-flying swallows seem to be aware… Finally, “Yasha” is a reminder that on this quest, an old, familiar, yet forgotten form can suddenly make its re-appearance…