Navigating diversity
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| Petra Gerwers, November 2021, Paris. © + courtesy Thomas Gerwers |
"On the same column
embraced Dream and Time,
crosses the moan of the child,
the broken tongue of the old man..." . Verses from the poem that opens the third act of the surrealistic play Así que pasen cinco años (If Five Years Pass) written by Federico García Lorca in 1931. Together with the plays The public (1930) and Untitled play (1935) they form the so-called Impossible Theater of the poet from Granada. The passage of time, dreams and ephemeral existence embrace again in photographer Petra Gerwers' beautiful exhibition entitled Petra Gerwers: Time Traveler -My inner child and me, a series of portraits of personalities from various fields together with an image of his childhood, which brings me the embrace of time and the dream that Lorca versed, and that we see this time in the work of Petra Gerwers in a beautiful black and white full of hope, because the present recognizes itself with love in a past that is sometimes tender, sometimes dramatic and full of pain, and holds out its hand to walk together towards the future. Petra Gerwers' sensitivity to capture some expressions of reunion with a lifetime, letting them live, breathe and transmit her feelings in this fragile dance that is life, should be highlighted.
Seven years of work mostly shot with a Leica Monochrom presented in three-part compositions that consist of a child's photo, a handwritten letter to the "former" child (the author as a child) and a current portrait, which Petra Gerwers photographed specifically. Time Traveler will be open from February 24 to March 3 at the Kunsträume der Michael Horbach Stiftung in Cologne.
You define yourself as a seeker of stories. How do you find or shape the narrative in a photograph?
I approach stories in very different ways. I prefer to navigate the diversity of life situations and find stories that arise spontaneously. I love the authentic, the truthful – that which simply happens of its own accord and grabs my attention. It inspires me to put what I see into exciting contexts, to frame it. To find new perspectives and relationships and to make them visible. To transport emotions. However, when I initiate stories, as in my project “Time Travelers,” I trigger situations, creating a kind of framework with corresponding possibilities for action, and then let things happen as far as possible. In those cases, I provide assistance and correction only where necessary and work my way forward until the “decisive moment” happens and becomes visible. Often, I feel like a collector, a hunter with the camera.
You are currently presenting the “Time Traveler” exhibition. What can you tell us about this exhibition?
I have been interested in psychological topics since my youth, not only because of my own personal growth but also because I am fascinated by people and their motives, behaviors, and emotions. I was looking for a way to give people a platform and invite them to look at their life and its hidden aspects. That is also where the idea of meeting your former child self comes in. To put the thoughts into words and make them visually accessible to others, it seemed best to use a handwritten letter, which is more personal. Handwriting has been called a kind of “soul writing.” To get a glimpse of who the lines are addressed to, we see a photo of the “time traveler” as a child. Next, I thought about how I would like to photograph the participants in the present and what we could incorporate into the portrait – to tell us a little more about the individual. This project started seven years ago. Now the public can finally see it in an exhibition, just as I initially envisioned.
The black-and-white photographs convey a sense of timelessness and mystery: why this choice?
Color definitely has exciting dimensions, and in photos, it can represent the visual world in different ways, depending on how you play and compose with the color tones. But color can also be distracting. Color photos may inadvertently draw the eye to incidentals, such as the subject’s clothes. In black-and-white images, shapes, structures, light, and shadows come out more strongly, especially in their three-dimensionality and in the composition of reflections. “Time Travelers” is about the journey through different times. While the children’s photos are presented in their original color versions, the contemporary portraits were all intentionally shot in black-and-white for a sense of coherence and timelessness.
Each composition comprises a contemporary portrait, a photo of the protagonist as a child, and a handwritten letter they have written to the child they once were. That’s where the memory we have of ourselves comes in. Do you think that a dialogue with the past is easy or is memory misleading?
I think that the dialogue with the past is rarely easy. Our childhood impressions and feelings often have a lasting effect on our emotional life, how we see the world, and our way of dealing with it. As adults, we often relive childhood feelings such as an overpowering sense of hurt, defiance, or defensiveness. By stepping back and entering into a dialogue with our past child self, that child can feel seen and loved. Reconciliation can occur with what we have experienced, with ourselves, with the past – and perhaps with the present. For some, this process might be frightening or overwhelming. Others experience the task as long overdue and embrace the process. I think it’s less about what details we remember and more about the felt experience. It’s important to differentiate: What I felt as a child was real to the child. As an adult, I am no longer powerless; I can choose how I deal with things.
One person you invited to the project was Phan Thi Kim Phuc: the iconic photograph of her as a child depicts the horror of war. What impression did her journey through time leave on you?
My encounter with the photographer Nick Ut and Phan Thi Kim Phuc was very special: I already knew Nick; we liked each other immediately. But now I got to know Kim Phuc: We sat on the bed in Nick’s hotel room for two hours. Kim Phuc sat to my left, and Nick sat at the desk. It was so moving to meet this woman, whose image was imprinted into collective memory as the “napalm girl of Vietnam” so long ago. She told about her past, her family and many siblings, and her life path. She is so warm and positive that I connected with her straight away. The incredible dedication and work she puts into her function as UNESCO Peace Ambassador is so impressive, as is how she has dealt with all the pain so courageously. Her life and that of “Uncle Nick” have been intertwined since that terrible moment. Capturing this relationship in two photos, superimposed on each other, was both a great responsibility and an honor.
I approach stories in very different ways. I prefer to navigate the diversity of life situations and find stories that arise spontaneously. I love the authentic, the truthful – that which simply happens of its own accord and grabs my attention. It inspires me to put what I see into exciting contexts, to frame it. To find new perspectives and relationships and to make them visible. To transport emotions. However, when I initiate stories, as in my project “Time Travelers,” I trigger situations, creating a kind of framework with corresponding possibilities for action, and then let things happen as far as possible. In those cases, I provide assistance and correction only where necessary and work my way forward until the “decisive moment” happens and becomes visible. Often, I feel like a collector, a hunter with the camera.
You are currently presenting the “Time Traveler” exhibition. What can you tell us about this exhibition?
I have been interested in psychological topics since my youth, not only because of my own personal growth but also because I am fascinated by people and their motives, behaviors, and emotions. I was looking for a way to give people a platform and invite them to look at their life and its hidden aspects. That is also where the idea of meeting your former child self comes in. To put the thoughts into words and make them visually accessible to others, it seemed best to use a handwritten letter, which is more personal. Handwriting has been called a kind of “soul writing.” To get a glimpse of who the lines are addressed to, we see a photo of the “time traveler” as a child. Next, I thought about how I would like to photograph the participants in the present and what we could incorporate into the portrait – to tell us a little more about the individual. This project started seven years ago. Now the public can finally see it in an exhibition, just as I initially envisioned.
The black-and-white photographs convey a sense of timelessness and mystery: why this choice?
Color definitely has exciting dimensions, and in photos, it can represent the visual world in different ways, depending on how you play and compose with the color tones. But color can also be distracting. Color photos may inadvertently draw the eye to incidentals, such as the subject’s clothes. In black-and-white images, shapes, structures, light, and shadows come out more strongly, especially in their three-dimensionality and in the composition of reflections. “Time Travelers” is about the journey through different times. While the children’s photos are presented in their original color versions, the contemporary portraits were all intentionally shot in black-and-white for a sense of coherence and timelessness.
Each composition comprises a contemporary portrait, a photo of the protagonist as a child, and a handwritten letter they have written to the child they once were. That’s where the memory we have of ourselves comes in. Do you think that a dialogue with the past is easy or is memory misleading?
I think that the dialogue with the past is rarely easy. Our childhood impressions and feelings often have a lasting effect on our emotional life, how we see the world, and our way of dealing with it. As adults, we often relive childhood feelings such as an overpowering sense of hurt, defiance, or defensiveness. By stepping back and entering into a dialogue with our past child self, that child can feel seen and loved. Reconciliation can occur with what we have experienced, with ourselves, with the past – and perhaps with the present. For some, this process might be frightening or overwhelming. Others experience the task as long overdue and embrace the process. I think it’s less about what details we remember and more about the felt experience. It’s important to differentiate: What I felt as a child was real to the child. As an adult, I am no longer powerless; I can choose how I deal with things.
One person you invited to the project was Phan Thi Kim Phuc: the iconic photograph of her as a child depicts the horror of war. What impression did her journey through time leave on you?
My encounter with the photographer Nick Ut and Phan Thi Kim Phuc was very special: I already knew Nick; we liked each other immediately. But now I got to know Kim Phuc: We sat on the bed in Nick’s hotel room for two hours. Kim Phuc sat to my left, and Nick sat at the desk. It was so moving to meet this woman, whose image was imprinted into collective memory as the “napalm girl of Vietnam” so long ago. She told about her past, her family and many siblings, and her life path. She is so warm and positive that I connected with her straight away. The incredible dedication and work she puts into her function as UNESCO Peace Ambassador is so impressive, as is how she has dealt with all the pain so courageously. Her life and that of “Uncle Nick” have been intertwined since that terrible moment. Capturing this relationship in two photos, superimposed on each other, was both a great responsibility and an honor.
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| Nick Ut und Kim Phuc, Juni 2015, Hamburg © + courtesy Petra Gerwers |
You are also in the show. What do you see when you look back?
I had a tough childhood. When I was 16, I left home because of abuse and lived in a girls’ hostel for three years. It took me a long time to come to terms with myself. However, I can appreciate how those past difficulties likely made me resourceful and resilient. Getting to know yourself and your strengths, and shaping your life consciously and responsibly, is probably a neverending process.
A Leica Monochrom was your camera for this series – why this camera in particular?
For me, it’s about reducing things to the essentials. It’s wonderful to focus on just that.
Relativity theory is about light and time, so is your exhibition. Do you think art is also relative?
That’s a tricky question. One that no one has been able to answer unequivocally so far. To be able to give an adequate answer, I would have to have studied at least art. However, to find an approach to an answer: I think art is in the eye of the beholder. In addition, I feel that art is a form of communication.
Tell us about some of your future projects.
I will continue this project. In addition, I would like to publish a book on it. And last year, I started the project “Applause to Life” and have already exhibited images from it. It’s about a rather colorful (and colorfully photographed) compilation of scenes from life, a blend of real life with funny, thoughtful, tangible, authentic aspects. The resulting images result from a deliberate composition of exciting elements and stories. It’s an ongoing project which is more lighthearted than “Time Travelers.”
How about telling us about a dream you had?
I remember my dreams quite vividly, and my dream world often feels like a parallel world that continues to stay with me through the next day. One dream I remember in particular: I’m about five years old and playing with my beloved dollhouse. Suddenly I see monsters coming out of the house. They get bigger and bigger and reach for me. I turn around and want to run as fast as I can to the door – my family is standing there, and they are reaching out to me. I can’t move and start to panic. It feels as if I am paralyzed. I scream – and then wake up. I had that dream many times as a child.
An interview by Juan Carlos Romero
For further information about Petra Gerwers please visit petragerwers.com
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