Land Ho!, 2013/2016
Translucent photograph mounted on acrylic, stones.

In the middle of the Southern Atlantic, some 2400 kilometres from the African continent and 3400 from South America lies the most remote island group in the world: Tristan da Cunha. 45 kilometres south-west of the main island, an extinct volcano rises from the ocean. This small island is guarded by steep lava cliffs that made landing an impossible mission for the early explorers. The island is called the Inaccessible, and its mysterious nature has haunted my mind for the better part of my life.

I have pictured myself approaching the Inaccessible. An experience one can have of an island that can only be seen from the sea resembles something that one may experience when looking at a sculpture. One can circle around it and see it from every angle, but one may never gain conclusive knowledge of the life it hides within. The flora and fauna of this island does not exist in the same measured realm as the ocean the observer sails on. On the ocean the observer floats between the past and the future, pressed between the shores of time. But the interior of this island exists somewhere beyond linear continuity, beyond the deep time of the barren cliffs harbouring it. And even if the essence of the island is clouded by uncertainty, it is the uncertainty itself that gives birth to an imaginary life, whose swell is not stopped by any shore as it rushes over the past and the future, surging perpetual presence. Why do imaginary things so often feel closer than others?