The Real Edges, 2020
Honourable mention from Mentor Price 2016, awarded by SCAM and Freelens
Documentary Grant from Centre National des Arts-Plastiques (CNAP)
Short-listed Athens Photo Festival 2019
There once was a country that had experienced war. It was said to be ethnically & religiously fratricidal. All the words had been used. Everyone though they could narrow the edges of the conflict by pronouncing conclusive words, but always got entangled in the names of its people, its beliefs & its language. There were talks of a siege, a massacre and soon they used the word genocide. After four years of horror, the country was cut in halves. To settle the last ardors, the “Agreements” were signed and remained like an open wound in the country’s body.
The bleeding was too strong, the country fainted.
A strange and turbulent coma then begins.
It is no longer war, it is not peace yet.
It is this particular time called “post-war”.
Twenty-five years have passed and the “post” never stops spreading.
We cross the country as we cross a strange night. Between dog and wolf.
It’s not a nightmare, certainly not a dream.
It is an uneasy wandering, where a few glimmers of light shine.
The country wanted to settle its scores with the space – the internal borders – the issue now is the cohabitation of times. The dead and the living, veterans of the conflict : Bosnians, Serbs, Croats and the youth born in its ruins. Everyone seems to be wandering in their own time and beliefs.
Sleepwalking.
More than a state of play, The Real Edges is an inventory of time. It is a wandering haunted by this question: is there an end at the end of the war?
The Title comes from a poem from the land of ghosts, Japan. It talks about love and a disembodied wound.
It talks about Bosnia.
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