Thedetails are not the details. They make the design.
Charles Eames~Architect&Furniture Designer
WHAT WILL BE REMEMBERED?
Recently I had to move out of a place where I spent a good few years of my life. The time has come and the change was needed. Time to make space for something new. Humans will get used to anything. We often find comfort in strange places and situations. Adaptation is the survival skill. The rescue and the trap.
What makes a place? What’s remembered? Smell, air, texture, light, sometimes sounds. The small details. The Edwardian house I had to move out from in Dublin had some hidden characteristics, original, historical details. Brass door handle, letterbox frame, door press that has not been working for a hundred years! The front door resembles an old tree where history reveals itself. Here it is a symbol of transformation. Passing from one place to another. From familiar to unknown. Physical and mental transformation. I was experimenting with angles in my short photo documentary. The stains on the brass door resemble blood and sweat dripping from a human body after hard work. The Victorian door knocker looks like a crucifix …
To complete the journey on the Victorian architecture, here are some photographs that were taken in May 2018. Victorian gardens and houses in the Rathgar area.
In Ireland watering the gardens or the grass is totally unnecessary, in fact, I do not think I have ever have seen anyone doing so. Because of the humidity in the air everything around is full of life and greenery.
During the Industrial Revolution, there was a rapid development of the Dublin city, which at that time was under British rule. I am not a great fan of the city centre, but I do really like the neighbourhood in which I live. It has a lot of character. When walking around it I have an impression I travelled back in time to the British colonial period. Something Irish people would not see as intriguing or entertaining as I do, at all. I only want to admire the aesthetics of that period.
Solid front doors with ornaments made of brass. Sparkle cleaned every Saturday, by very well-educated housewives. Perfectly matched colours of the doors with the facade of the buildings or with the plants in the garden. Romanticism hidden in organic vault lines over the front doors. Refined British black gates, fences and barriers. Perfect set for a romance during an Art Nouveau period.
Rathgar is a village in the south of Dublin with its origins going back to 1862. As far as I know, the south of Dublin and the Victorian houses were lived by the Protestants rather than Catholics. Therefor wealthier families have always lived here. This house is about a hundred and fifty years old, within a very close proximity to the house where James Joyce was born. It is a nice neighbourhood, safe, quiet, very green with plenty of gorgeous gardens.
This was the first project with a manual camera I had to do and the aim of it was to experiment with angles, focus, lighting, and still life. I wanted to document it in a style of 1940s. At least the way I think it was back then, with the slow pace of life. When people had the time and will to talk and to get to know each other. When they did not have to do hundreds of things in a one day. When they did not have to be perfect, trendy, successful, rich and famous. But they were ambitious, hard-working, well mannered and authentic.
There is a poem I studied in my primary school and for some reason, the mood in this documentary reminds me of it.
Czeslaw Milosz A song about the end of the world
(…) And those who were waiting for thunder and lightning Are disappointed. And those who were expecting signs and archangels’ trumpets Do not believe it is happening now. As long as the sun and the moon are above, As long as the bumblebee visits the rose, As long as children are born rosy, Nobody believes it is happening now.
And only an old man with grey hair who would be a prophet But he is not a prophet because he has another thing to do, He says while tying tomatoes: There will not be another end of the world, There will not be another end of the world.
The end of the world has come to that house too. It has been repossessed by Permanent TSB Bank and soon will be put on sale. All tenants have to be out. The banks have no mercy. For some, it is The End of The World.