The way home begins when the sea appears on the left. A stretch of road traversed countless times. And perhaps it holds all the goodbyes, now, when one chooses to look at it for the first time.
In the early 1990s, the artist Absalon created cells. Small one person living units. He gave his vision the material form of a structure, and more than the living unit itself, sought to imbue the person inside it with a new meaning. And how do you give new meaning to a person who is trying to get home and doesn’t succeed. To how he or she experience the world, to the ritual. An untethered person.
The sound emanating from the wall asks the listener to embark on an inner journey in the space itself. It is not simply a soundtrack that exists in the background, it is the here and now. Home recordings, piano pieces, a synthesis of everyday life, broken down and recomposed.
The work was created out of the thought that photography is a tragic medium. While human perception seeks permanent ground to cling to, photography reveals that everything is temporary. Nothing is eternal. What once signified a certain thing, as time goes by is emptied and filled with something else. So too are words.