2015 – ongoing
To divide means to convert the whole into separate parts. But if you take the world for the whole, will you be able to identify in it some elements that are relatively unrelated to one another?
I conduct a series of experiments, moving from the general to the particular. At first glance, everything seems simple to me: the light and the darkness, nature and man, the living and the dead.
Photography slides on the surface, stubbornly ignoring the hidden structure. I think that the border of any surface, its junction with another layer is that very place where division occurs. But it is there, at this very point, where the definition of general concepts takes place, possible only through one another: the dead is the lifeless, darkness is the absence of light. Thus, the surface becomes a place of connection, otherwise the darkness ceases to be such.
I switch to the “common sense” level and try to discern parts within the structure, some pieces. Each of them inherits the attributes of the class, the general structure of DNA, the memory of it. All of them are parts of the whole and are connected with one another by the space of the shot and by the observer, that is myself. It is too easy.
I try to dig deeper, at least in theory. Everything is made of molecules, but where does one molecule end and another one begin? Strictly speaking, such a place does not exist, there is only an asymptotic tail, which on Physics classes is usually neglected to simplify it all, to create a model and somehow to get an ideas of what is happening.
The harder I try to divide the things, the more I think about the object, the more links I detect. And what for me used to be independent and simple, suddenly becomes a part of something and changes in my mind by its own. To separate the object, I have to look at it in a way when at this particular angle these links are not visible.
And here it is in front of me a piece of feldspar, a mineral similar to glass. If you put some threads on top of it, two images appear under it. One is called “ordinary”, the other one – “extraordinary.” But is there among them that very thread that lies on the piece of paper?