Out, but not arrived
A few years ago, the exhibition "Out, but not arrived" showcasing artworks by me and the French artist Catherine Charreyre opened in the Iragui Gallery in Moscow.
At that time, I had no idea that the exhibition on refugees would prove prophetic for me. I have now been "Out, but not arrived" for almost a year. I've been working on "Portraits of Cities" for a few years. I create these portraits of them layer by layer, surrounding myself with curtain walls. I create these portraits from my impressions. And it doesn't matter where in the world I am because I "carry" my "baggage" with me. My artwork is my home.
A patchwork quilt, patches, fragments of newspapers in different languages, landscapes, neighborhoods without residents, projects of settlements without people. Whether migrants fit into this environment depends on various factors. The refugees drag along small pieces of luggage. Their main luggage is memories of their previous lives. Reincarnation is the memory of the soul. The patchwork quilt of memories, the patchwork made of the irrecoverable.
In some ways, I consider myself a refugee as well. And my main luggage is my artwork. They are light and do not take up much space. They are my memories and my protection, my mobile architecture, and my prayer rug, my magic carpet. I cover myself with them in my travels to protect myself against the cold or the heat. I also try to fit with them into new realities.
Maria Arendt
