júlia mazzoni

I was also able to reflect on the exhibition through a poetic essay that was published in the official catalogue. Below is a translation of my reflection on the theme of the show, as well as of mine and Marianne’s work:

 

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I recently came across the title of a photography exhibition at the Princeton University Art Museum that marked me deeply: “Don’t we touch each other just to prove we are still here?”. I was struck by the phrase and kept it with me. Reading further, I discovered that the quote comes from a book by Ocean Vuong, "On Earth We Are Briefly Gorgeous" (VUONG, 2021).

 

Don’t we touch each other just to prove that we are still here? When reflecting on the existence of the body in the world, I find myself in a place of crossing layers. When coming into contact with — or touching — some of these layers, I realize — and feel — that I exist.

 

The first possible layer I think of is the line that outlines the body. “The line borrows the outline of the world, it walks on the surface of things” (DERDYK, 2010). The line seems to prove my physical existence in the world, outlining my body, and also crossing the boundary between the self and the other. What is touch, if not an intertwining of contour lines, mine and the other’s? It is proof that we have expanded the limit of the first layer that separates us and are beginning to interconnect. It is proof of our joint existence, of a specific fragment of time. The line ceases to be just a divider and becomes a point of contact; it becomes a knot. At that moment, I understand that I exist. I intertwine with the world.

 

The shadow appears as an eternal companion to that which seems to prove my existence in the world. The shadow is linked to everything I experience, it follows the movement of my body and is also within it — it is an internal and external layer. It inhabits the threshold between presence and absence, between definition and indefiniteness. It has its own contour line, but it also fills; it is at the same time ephemeral and eternal. The shadow manifests itself as a layer that is difficult to access, because it depends on the specific distance, the specific light, the focus at the specific moment, the world around me and the internal territory. The way it exists within me is how I perceive and exist in my surroundings. I thus become a fluid existence, in constant change.

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Line and shadow gradually seem to become synonymous with vulnerability. With line and shadow, I gradually delve into the layers and feel myself existing (and being present) in the world. I feel that my corporeal existence (and presence) reaches a meeting point with the other, and the self opens up possibilities of becoming us. And the experiences of existence blend together, just as bodies touch each other — physically or not — and we realize that we are capable of “proving” that we are here. This is how the consciousness and the feeling that I am here are drawn. Fleeting and finite, but here and now. 

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​Reflecting on the exhibition made me come closer to new references for my research, such as the existentialist/phenomenological aspect of the being embedded in Martin Heidegger’s philosophy. Also, even though I wasn’t able to attend the exhibition in person, by being in constant contact and dialogue with Laís and Marianne, I feel like I learned more about how to propose an exhibition project and it was an opportunity to showcase my work publicly in a very interesting and exciting context, as it was proposed in conjunction with another artist’s body of work.​