Chloé Milos Azzopardi
Chloé Azzopardi is a photographer featured in The New York Times, The Wire, and the British Journal of Photography. She has exhibited widely, with recent shows at Rencontres d'Arles and the Belfast Photo Festival she is also a winner of the Lucie Foundation’s Emerging Artist award.
Erika Pellicci
Qui sempre. Qui forse. Qui mai.
To the question “What is my place in the world?”, I attempt to answer with this collection of shots. In search of a location where I can feel at home, I have collected, over the past two ye- ars, moments when I have felt more or less close to the constantly shifting idea of origins. “Here always” will not necessarily be always, and “here never” could become a maybe.
The theme of existence shifts on a continuous axis between the rational and the irrational, while being characterized by the unrepeatability and precariousness of places, emotions, and situations. In the end, finding the right place does not so much depend on actual physical displacement, as much as it does on a mental journey.
Felix Schöppner
Felix Schöppner's series "Cognition" explores the nature of human perception in a world dominated by technology. The project focuses on how we sense and interpret reality using our five senses, and how technology pushes beyond these natural limits. By creating installations from everyday objects and studio materials, Schöppner visualizes complex ideas from fields like physics and astronomy, presenting them as simplified models.
Rick van der Klooster
Death is when no one remembers you, so it reads in German on a memorial stone on the corner of a steep mountain road high in the Austrian Alps.
I think there is truth to that, I don’t know the person on the memorial stone, but these mountains remind me of my mother who died when I was eighteen years old. She always brought me along to the mountains on our holidays, trying to teach a child from the Netherlands the beauty of the alpine landscape with its magical pine forests, crystal clear rivers, snow capped mountains and roaring waterfalls. As a child I never quite got the feeling my mother experienced wandering through this particular landscape.
Almost five years after my mothers passing, I went back to the mountain that seems so still, but moves with great determination and the river that flows so carelessly and yet so destructive. They started talking to me. In ‘A Conversation between the Mountain and the River’ I walk the known paths I once walked with my mother, but also ascend high over the peaks and descend into their rivers. They make me remember and teach me about how to deal with the grief of losing my mother.
In a way the landscape is giving me back what I’ve lost.
- Rick
