2 images. Taken around 12.00 am on June 21, 2016, in Miðvágur, Faroe Islands. Summer Solstice.
The first image is an external shot. Drawing on housing. The basic representation of a human figure, flanked by obliquely clumsy spelling – SÓL – which together and despite the accent, still evoke, by simplistic train of thought, the effigy of Re in an amusing frontal angle. In a corner, anything can happen.
The second image is an inside shot. It's a room of the military museum, located right across from the housing of the first image, curiously open but vacant. The museum houses a modest photographic archive reporting the British invasion of the Islands during World War II. This military step served, without significant impact, as stratagem of prevention, observation and concealment. The objects' arrangement is memorial: awaiting the Armistice.
Between these two places, the disturbing absence of night is announced. An imminent violence causing weary animals to fall over: one can see manes and heaped hooves.
I gradually suspect the impossibility of any human being grasping a form without sharpening its vertices. We change it into an event or, at least, a seamless, semi-open enclosure.
I proceed lifting the stones in the avowed expectation of finding you again, reinstating love. Watching the minutia of your gestures putting the needle over the vinyl. Well played industrial music – steel and water. Same elements on the northern harbours, materials for prospection.
Fish aren't fished in these islands, birds are, still young and awkward, throwing themselves in pathetic bravery, soon collapsing into the sea where they inadvertently float to death. Divine punishment!
In this renewed waiting for an event lies the opportunity for the Feroese, without better income, to lower their boats and collect the still warm birds in their nets for the family repast.
The premonition is confirmed: beneath the forcefulness, the sub-repticious. That cold, green face, signalling the place of the inert beings. Fetid creatures sustaining the weight of flesh, sacrificing sky for earth, night for day.
Fish aren't fished in these islands, birds are. Animals fall over, not the night.
