A Mountain is Only a Slow Wave
For A Mountain is Only a Slow Wave I returned to a place I know well: the historic Tempelhof Airport in Berlin. The structure itself is a testament to continuous transformation. I documented its closure in 2008 and revisited it in 2016/17 after being partially converted into a refugee camp. The color portraits in this book were photographed in collaboration with asylum seekers from Syria and Afghanistan, most of whom lived in the airport during this time.
When I look at these portraits, I remember individuals who touched me with their ability to remain open and compassionate in the face of radical change and great uncertainty.
The remaining photography reflects an ongoing reckoning with change as the main topic in my work. In times when change feels overwhelmingly like loss, photographing it as transformation, as a continuous way of becoming, leaves me with a sense of agency, for I am reminded that nothing is set in stone and even a mountain is only a slow wave.
“The Pali word anicca is translated into English as impermanence or change. (...) Anicca is a word indicator that points to a fact of reality: the ceaseless transformation of all material in the universe. Nothing is solid, permanent, immutable. Every ‘thing’ is really an ‘event.’ Even a stone is a form of river, and a mountain is only a slow wave.”
Paul R. Fleischman from his essay ‘The Experience of Impermanence’ (1994) (Book: Karma & Chaos 1999)
For A Mountain is Only a Slow Wave I invited two brilliant writers to collaborate with me -
Syrian poet Lina Atfah and U.S. author Annaka Harris.
Excerpts of the works they created for this project are presented below.
Lina Atfah Wreck and Flow (excerpt)
لينة عطفة
موجةُ الحُطام
ذاكرةٌ تتمايلُ بين رصاصتين
،زمنٌ يتشوّهُ في المرايا
خلف زجاجٍ هشّ
تبدو الضفيرةُ مشنقة
ويصير الوجه أُحجية
من يملكُ حجَراً ليطلقَ سراح الحكاية؟
!ويردَّ الخوفَ إلى كهفِه؟
A memory sways between two bullets
Time distorts in mirrors
Behind a fragile pane
The braid is a noose.
The face a puzzle
And who has a stone to release the story
And send fear back to its cave?
مأساةٌ تقابلُ المأساةَ على دائرةِ الوقت
تخرجُ امرأةٌ من لوحةٍ قديمة
لتقفَ أمامَ الكاميرا
..اللحظةُ ذاتُها، المرأةُ ذاتُها، الألمُ ذاتُه
ما الذي يتغيّرُ إذن؟
Misfortune meets misfortune in the cycle of time
A woman steps out of an old portrait.
To stand before the camera
The same moment, same woman, same pain
What, then, has changed?
واحاتٌ.. خاناتٌ
محطّاتٌ.. مطارات
كلّ نقاطِ العبور لم تكن نقاطاً للعبور
بل نوافذ تعكسُ الزمان على ذاته
نوافذ تسخرُ من التاريخ
حيثُ الناس لا يتعلّمون من الحكاية
ولا يتوقفون عن تكرار المأساة
Oases, hostels
Stations, airports
All crossing-points not crossing-points
But apertures reflecting time on itself
Mocking history
In which people do not learn from the story
Or cease to repeat the disaster
Lina wrote this beautiful poem in 2021 in response to the imagery.
The complete poem is published in the photo book A Mountain is Only a Slow Wave.
Soundbite
Lina Atfah reads from her poem Wreck and Flow. Sound design Avi Kabir.
The full version of this audio piece is played alongside the photographs of
A Mountain is Only a Slow Wave in exhibition settings.
“And our sense of connection deepens when we meditate on impermanence, as we bear witness to the fact that nothing ever truly disappears. Everything—from molecules, to mountains, to life—continually recycles and changes form, and this impermanence is on display in every passing moment of our conscious experience.”
- Annaka Harris (from her essay ‘Reflections on Impermanence’ 2022)
The complete essay by Annaka Harris has been published in the photo book A Mountain is Only a Slow Wave.
Coming soon…
On the occasion of the publication of A Mountain is Only a Slow Wave, Annaka Harris and Judith Stenneken speak about impermanence, the interconnectedness of our world, and the attempt to develop compassion in the face of one’s own suffering and that of others.