This space occupies a computer suite that has eight screens, a small board, some papers, and pens. It invites you to walk around and watch the material on the screens, and before you exit it proposes that you ‘leave a word behind’.
Two screens display two different paintings that have been digitally processed. One screen is covered by pages of the book Ignorance by Milan Kundera (2000), and another one is covered by handwritten notes and plays a video of animated lines that resemble wrinkles. Two screens play a choreographed poem and two a naked body moving and interacting with different material, mainly paint and rocks.
As every space in this project, it emerges from a virtual dimension; this time from the one constructed between myself and Milan Kundera's Ignorance, a fictional novel revolving around the protagonist’s return to her homeland after years of living elsewhere. The dimension we built together was one that held questions and thoughts around ‘home’ and ‘belonging’ and, more than anything, ‘nostalgia’ for own's homeland.
Imprint#2 reflects the virtual dimension it emerged from in an intimate way, creating a space for personal thoughts, memories, worries, and for embracing and releasing nostalgic feelings. The screens become the channel for their expression whilst keeping them protected and creating some distance from the viewer.
Before the audience members exit the room, they can write a word and pin it on the board, placed on a table next to the door, leaving behind their own imprint of the space they met with.
Somehow, the pinned papers with the words written on them, left behind by people who I may not encounter again, in a space that’s never going to exist as it was for that moment, brought their own flickers of nostalgia.