Is there a place for us?
''Exile is a crack opened by force between with the place where a person was born and raised.''*
The immigrants who had to flee their countries, a border has other meanings than a line dividing the land. The borders are now fortified with higher walls than they were ever before to block the passage for those who had to leave their country to survive. Even if the borders are impossible to cross, it is imperative to arrive. It expresses distant geographies where life and death stand side by side. A few photographs to get with you, memories that you left behind, fear, anxiety, lifeless bodies that have not even reached the shores.
This work takes place in two border towns of Germany, Frankfurt (Oder) and Poland, named Slubice. The bridge over the Oder River transports pedestrians and vehicles from one of these two towns to the other for a few minutes. Even though not very often, there is no checkpoint on the bridge except for the police who stop you and ask for your identity. Even if everything so far seems like a sign of ‘free passage’; that's not the case at for all. For a refugee who is forbidden to go beyond the specified borders, the border is not just a country to be crossed. It means taking a few steps further, not even taking a few steps that would require the removal of the small piece of paper carried as an "identity" and approached as "suspect" when asked.