Islands within an island: this is precisely the emblem of our loneliness;
I would like to define it with a non-existent word 'isolitudine'.
Gesualdo Bufalino (1920-1996).
Isolitudine (2005-2017)
Isolitudine is a state of spirit but also a tale of my Sicilian "self-exile" & refuge.
In the twelve years I was living there, Sicily taught me a new language of silence, a stream of sight bearing a submarine map of the senses. Walking it's shores, cities and mountains, every time I encountered the gaze of a traveler or a migrant, I saw myself in a mirror; I recognised the foreigner in me. All those years, my endeavour of collecting this mosaic of visual literature was like Colapesce's effort to hold in the abyss of the sea.
The myth of Colapesce tells about a fisherman’s son, Nicholas from Messina. He was known as ‘Colapesce’ because of his love for the sea and his skills under the water; every time he dove into the sea, he resurfaced from the waves ready to tell his stories about incredible discoveries from the underwater world.
The fame of Colapesce reached the King of Sicily and Emperor Frederick II who decided to test his abilities, throwing a cup overboard. While the king and his court were waiting on the boat, Colapesce succeeded in recovering the cup. The king wanted to try him again and, this time, threw his own crown deeper into the sea. As always, Colapesce brought the treasure back. The last time Frederick II threw his ring in a deeper place but this time, Colapesce did not surface.
The legend says that Colapesce discovered the island of Sicily was being kept from falling into the sea by three columns – and one of them was broken. He decided to stay there to hold the column up, saving the island from the sinking.
In the twelve years I was living there, Sicily taught me a new language of silence, a stream of sight bearing a submarine map of the senses. Walking it's shores, cities and mountains, every time I encountered the gaze of a traveler or a migrant, I saw myself in a mirror; I recognised the foreigner in me. All those years, my endeavour of collecting this mosaic of visual literature was like Colapesce's effort to hold in the abyss of the sea.
The myth of Colapesce tells about a fisherman’s son, Nicholas from Messina. He was known as ‘Colapesce’ because of his love for the sea and his skills under the water; every time he dove into the sea, he resurfaced from the waves ready to tell his stories about incredible discoveries from the underwater world.
The fame of Colapesce reached the King of Sicily and Emperor Frederick II who decided to test his abilities, throwing a cup overboard. While the king and his court were waiting on the boat, Colapesce succeeded in recovering the cup. The king wanted to try him again and, this time, threw his own crown deeper into the sea. As always, Colapesce brought the treasure back. The last time Frederick II threw his ring in a deeper place but this time, Colapesce did not surface.
The legend says that Colapesce discovered the island of Sicily was being kept from falling into the sea by three columns – and one of them was broken. He decided to stay there to hold the column up, saving the island from the sinking.
Isolitudine by Géraldine Bloch
The photographs of Georges Salameh are born from the primary function of walking, along with an ardent desire to experiment with a place, what- ever it may be. For over twenty years he has travelled across the Mediterranean to present territories in perpetual transformation, shaped by the joint action of humans and the natural elements. His is a work in progress, and is based on slowness and discreet attention that develops in accordance with the photographer’s travels. This long-haul approach embraces a multitude of micro-phenomena, and reveals the palimpsest that is the Mediterranean. Among his preferred territories is Sicily.
From the coasts to inland areas, on land both wild and not, Salameh builds a territory for himself, one that is connected to neither a map nor a document. The elements that interest him, the portions of reality that he captures, and the syncretism and acclimations he uncovers all build a striking visual chronicle of Sicily that emphasizes its profoundly hybrid nature. In this chronicle devoid of heroism and consisting of daily life on a human scale, a spirit, tree, street corner, or even a volcano resonate as so many locations for possible encounters. These forms serve as landmarks within the public and/or domestic space. They designate precise places and moments, for each itinerary has its own narrative, and each visit is unique.
Georges Salameh establishes the elements of his vocabulary within a continuum of the territory. If he makes the Isolitudine of Gesualdo Bufalino his, it is because this state - for it is indeed a state - appears to match his own: island and solitude as a dual constraint transformed into a mode of operation. He proposes side roads and refuges for the perpetual question of Sicilian identity, its immutability. The island is large enough for chance meetings and inner logic to foster encounters of a different type. Salameh attempts to outline the contours of this distant call of a familiar land, this form of inner exile.
Occasional returns to Sicily help make his impressions denser, more internalized. Walking facilitates being intimately steeped in a place, and promotes both memory and meditation. The places that make up Isolitudine are located precisely where the landscape no longer corresponds to lifestyles, where the confrontation between the vernacular and modernity makes room for melancholy traces. The enigma of the place partially escapes him, although his photographs, which have neither effects nor clear intentions, allow the association of ideas to construct image sequences that instill even the most common place subjects with greater spirit. In this respect, Georges Salameh’s “realism” is connected to genre and landscape painting. A light vibration that animates the image with an internal voice is superimposed on the fixedness and silence of bodies and objects. In an apparent indifference to subjects and situations, in the dialectic of forms and materials, an unsuspected eloquence is born.
Les photographies de Georges Salameh naissent de la marche, fonction première, et du désir ardent d’expérimenter le lieu quel qu’il soit. Depuis une vingtaine d’années il arpente ainsi le bassin méditérrannéen pour rendre visible des territoires en perpétuelle transformation, travaillés par l’action conjointe de l’homme et des éléments naturels . C’est un work in progress, nourri de lenteur et d’attention discrète, qui se développe au gré des pérégrinations du photographe. Une démarche au long cours pour embrasser une multitude de micro-phénomènes et rendre manifeste le palimpseste qu’est la Méditerranée. Parmi ses terrains de prédilection, la Sicile.
Des rivages aux terres intérieures, foulant des sols plus ou moins apprivoisés, Salameh se construit un territoire qui ne relève ni de la carte ni du document. Les éléments qui l’intéressent, les portions de réel dont il se saisit, les syncrétismes et les acclimatations qu’il débusque, batissent une étonnante chronique visuelle de la Sicile qui souligne son caractère profondément hybride. Dans cette chronique sans héroisme, faite de vie quotidienne et toujours à hauteur d’homme, un génie, un arbre, un coin de rue, un volcan même, sonnent comme autant de lieux de rendez-vous possibles. Ces formes sont des répères dans l’espace public et/ou domestique. Elles désignent des lieux et des moments précis, car chaque itiniéraire a son récit, chaque passage est unique.
Dans le continuum du territoire, Georges Salameh fixe les éléments de son vocabulaire. S’il fait sienne l’Isolitudine de Gesualdo Bufalino[1] c’est que cet état, car il s’agit bien d’un état, semble épouser le sien. Ile et solitude comme une double contrainte métamorphosée en mode opératoire. Il propose des chemins de traverse, des refuges, à la sempiternelle question de la sicilianité, de son immuabilité. L’île est assez vaste pour que des hasards, des logiques innées permettent des rencontres d’un autre type. Cet appel du loin en terre familière, cette espèce d’ exil intérieur, Salameh tente d’en dessiner les contours.
Grâce à ses retours épisodiques en Sicile, il densifie, intériorise les impressions perçues. La marche favorise une imprégnation intime, propice à la mémoire et à la méditation. Les lieux qui peuplent Isolitudine se situent aux endroits mêmes où le paysage ne correspond plus aux modes vie, là où la confrontation entre vernaculaire et modernité a laissé place à de mélancoliques survivances. L’ énigme du lieu lui échappe en partie, mais il parvient par une photographie sans effets ni intention claire, par associations d’idées, à construire des séquences d’images qui dotent d’un supplément d’âme les motifs même les plus anodins. Le ‘réalisme’ de Georges Salameh tisse ici des liens étroits avec la peinture de genre et le paysage. A la fixité et au mutisme des corps et des objets vient se superposer une légère vibration qui anime l’image d’une voix intérieure. Dans l’indifférence apparente du sujet et des situations, dans la dialectique des formes et des matières, naît une éloquence insoupçonnée.
[1]Isolitudine: Ile et solitude.Terme forgé par l’écrivain Gesualdo Bufalino (1920-1996) et qu’il définit ainsi: C’est un état d’âme, mais aussi l’histoire d’un auto-exil sicilien. “Des îles dans l’île: c’est précisement le blason de notre solitude, que je souhaiterais définir comme isolitudine faute de vocabulaire existant.
The photographs of Georges Salameh are born from the primary function of walking, along with an ardent desire to experiment with a place, what- ever it may be. For over twenty years he has travelled across the Mediterranean to present territories in perpetual transformation, shaped by the joint action of humans and the natural elements. His is a work in progress, and is based on slowness and discreet attention that develops in accordance with the photographer’s travels. This long-haul approach embraces a multitude of micro-phenomena, and reveals the palimpsest that is the Mediterranean. Among his preferred territories is Sicily.
From the coasts to inland areas, on land both wild and not, Salameh builds a territory for himself, one that is connected to neither a map nor a document. The elements that interest him, the portions of reality that he captures, and the syncretism and acclimations he uncovers all build a striking visual chronicle of Sicily that emphasizes its profoundly hybrid nature. In this chronicle devoid of heroism and consisting of daily life on a human scale, a spirit, tree, street corner, or even a volcano resonate as so many locations for possible encounters. These forms serve as landmarks within the public and/or domestic space. They designate precise places and moments, for each itinerary has its own narrative, and each visit is unique.
Georges Salameh establishes the elements of his vocabulary within a continuum of the territory. If he makes the Isolitudine of Gesualdo Bufalino his, it is because this state - for it is indeed a state - appears to match his own: island and solitude as a dual constraint transformed into a mode of operation. He proposes side roads and refuges for the perpetual question of Sicilian identity, its immutability. The island is large enough for chance meetings and inner logic to foster encounters of a different type. Salameh attempts to outline the contours of this distant call of a familiar land, this form of inner exile.
Occasional returns to Sicily help make his impressions denser, more internalized. Walking facilitates being intimately steeped in a place, and promotes both memory and meditation. The places that make up Isolitudine are located precisely where the landscape no longer corresponds to lifestyles, where the confrontation between the vernacular and modernity makes room for melancholy traces. The enigma of the place partially escapes him, although his photographs, which have neither effects nor clear intentions, allow the association of ideas to construct image sequences that instill even the most common place subjects with greater spirit. In this respect, Georges Salameh’s “realism” is connected to genre and landscape painting. A light vibration that animates the image with an internal voice is superimposed on the fixedness and silence of bodies and objects. In an apparent indifference to subjects and situations, in the dialectic of forms and materials, an unsuspected eloquence is born.
Des rivages aux terres intérieures, foulant des sols plus ou moins apprivoisés, Salameh se construit un territoire qui ne relève ni de la carte ni du document. Les éléments qui l’intéressent, les portions de réel dont il se saisit, les syncrétismes et les acclimatations qu’il débusque, batissent une étonnante chronique visuelle de la Sicile qui souligne son caractère profondément hybride. Dans cette chronique sans héroisme, faite de vie quotidienne et toujours à hauteur d’homme, un génie, un arbre, un coin de rue, un volcan même, sonnent comme autant de lieux de rendez-vous possibles. Ces formes sont des répères dans l’espace public et/ou domestique. Elles désignent des lieux et des moments précis, car chaque itiniéraire a son récit, chaque passage est unique.
Dans le continuum du territoire, Georges Salameh fixe les éléments de son vocabulaire. S’il fait sienne l’Isolitudine de Gesualdo Bufalino[1] c’est que cet état, car il s’agit bien d’un état, semble épouser le sien. Ile et solitude comme une double contrainte métamorphosée en mode opératoire. Il propose des chemins de traverse, des refuges, à la sempiternelle question de la sicilianité, de son immuabilité. L’île est assez vaste pour que des hasards, des logiques innées permettent des rencontres d’un autre type. Cet appel du loin en terre familière, cette espèce d’ exil intérieur, Salameh tente d’en dessiner les contours.
Grâce à ses retours épisodiques en Sicile, il densifie, intériorise les impressions perçues. La marche favorise une imprégnation intime, propice à la mémoire et à la méditation. Les lieux qui peuplent Isolitudine se situent aux endroits mêmes où le paysage ne correspond plus aux modes vie, là où la confrontation entre vernaculaire et modernité a laissé place à de mélancoliques survivances. L’ énigme du lieu lui échappe en partie, mais il parvient par une photographie sans effets ni intention claire, par associations d’idées, à construire des séquences d’images qui dotent d’un supplément d’âme les motifs même les plus anodins. Le ‘réalisme’ de Georges Salameh tisse ici des liens étroits avec la peinture de genre et le paysage. A la fixité et au mutisme des corps et des objets vient se superposer une légère vibration qui anime l’image d’une voix intérieure. Dans l’indifférence apparente du sujet et des situations, dans la dialectique des formes et des matières, naît une éloquence insoupçonnée.
[1]Isolitudine: Ile et solitude.Terme forgé par l’écrivain Gesualdo Bufalino (1920-1996) et qu’il définit ainsi: C’est un état d’âme, mais aussi l’histoire d’un auto-exil sicilien. “Des îles dans l’île: c’est précisement le blason de notre solitude, que je souhaiterais définir comme isolitudine faute de vocabulaire existant.
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"To dream of islands, whether with joy or in fear, is to dream of pulling away, of being already separate, far from any continent, of being lost and alone, or to dream of starting from scratch, recreating, beginning anew” Gilles Deleuze
edition
interview
featured
exhibition
Whitelight - Shed (London, UK, March 2017)
EIGHT (Athens, Greece, March 2020)
ARMONIA (Ragusa, Sicily 2022)