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Residents

English / Ελληνικά

I have never endeavoured to make any promise of immortality, or promotion, or even fame of any kind. And I am sure that none of them had something similar in mind. I think they just needed a little stretching, a breath of fresh air from the present, so as to send me –at least- their voices relating their story of how they got to where they were captured by the camera, their thoughts, their fears and wishes.

Despite having been acquainted with them for some time, I admit I didn’t ask their permission to place them in different environments, in landscapes that I decided in their stead. I will never know if their parting from the scenery to which they had been attached for so many decades was painful. I rather thought of it as a journey that I offered to them with a certain risk, which is –anyway- inherent to any travel to an unknown place.

This new state, this new moment in time that was suddenly cut off from the course of time, this new death that I inevitably offered them –just like their old photographer had done- enticed me to meet their eyes again. To listen to their stories again, but with their melody orchestrated differently.

And everything seemed to take on a new meaning. As if the world had been recreated though a picture of itself, which can skillfully fake an impartial depiction of a moment; an objective depiction of truth; and ultimately of life itself.


*All rights reserved by George Vogiatzakis. It is forbidden to use the material of the site without photographer’s previous permission
Webmaster Costas Tzanidakis (ctzanidakis@hotmail.com)

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