Trapped

The world is divided in the middle: above or below water. The limitations that are set by breathing, by the need for oxygen, define one’s position in this ultimate dichotomy. And although it is predetermined as to which of these two environments one “belongs” to, it is possible that what is considered the natural environment is also completely foreign. Or maybe one fits in better on the other side, to which by definition they do not belong.

But how does one define “natural environment”?

In which environment does a creature absolutely belong?


And reversely, where does it feel “foreign”?


Is the natural environment in which each creature, sentient or not, “belongs”, predetermined and defined irreversibly?


Or is there the slightest chance to negotiate our given position in nature, maybe even to reverse it temporarily?


In this series of underwater still-lifes, what is explored is the normality that characterizes the relationship of an object with its environment. Elements of the outside world are completely assimilated in a supposedly inhospitable environment. At the same time, underwater creatures, although they are in their natural environment, seem to want to escape from it.


Each life seems to seek what it doesn’t have. The sense of freedom that the water element provides, the escape from a natural identity, which is particularly appealing to non-aquatic creatures, co-exists with a sensation of entrapment in an inhospitable environment, which silently reminds every foreign object that it doesn’t belong there, that it is a parasite.


And then, you need to escape from there too.