The viewer, allured and captivated, tends to overlook and forget the past, mesmerized by the guns’ fine craftsmanship and artistry. Yet, just beneath the surface, their artistic presence is haunted by a past that cannot be changed.

Statement

Domesticated: Seeing Past Seduction

During World War II, my father was given a small handgun by his uncle - a guerrilla fighting against the occupation in the Pindos ranges in Greece - to protect the family. He was six years old. Although his uncle was one of the liberators of Thessaloniki in late 1944, he was murdered by Greek traitors the following year. As for the handgun, it was treasured by my father; a family heirloom that was displayed on a pedestal for everyone to admire. I grew up having to look at this gun and always felt uneasy around it, even though it was an obsolete relic.

This story triggered the inspiration behind the “Domesticated: Seeing Past Seduction” body of work, in which I photograph antique guns in their collectors’ living environment, using pillows, rugs, tablecloths, and other found objects as a background.

When describing guns, “peaceful” and “silent” are not words that come to mind. When seen as antiques, though, their initial purpose is camouflaged. The viewer, allured and captivated, tends to overlook and forget the past, mesmerized by the guns’ fine craftsmanship and artistry. Yet, just beneath the surface, their artistic presence is haunted by a past that cannot be changed.
The memory should not be purified from the suffering and pain the guns inflict. The history of violence cannot be erased by transforming weapons into inert objects of beauty or works of art because - although not visible - the blood, the mud, the fear and desperation will always be present.