This is how I will remember you

  • Mixed media / 2009



This is how I will remember you, 2009, installation
Perspex box (1.50x1.20x60), IKEA frames, IKEA table, photograph, Light, Radio

The work addresses issues related to the memory of a post-war era in a new Oliver- Twist-sense of adventure.

The work uses as a reference point an image from a series of paintings, all portraits of tearful young boys and girls in various alternated versions, most probably painted by an Italian painter Bruno Amadio, also known as Bragolin. The paintings were widely distributed from the 1950s on and have become a mass-produced print since then, in post-war Europe. Intriguingly enough it has been massively circulating without being the product of a political propaganda or having any artistic value. Various prints bare the signature of other artists that have touched-up the image. The images of crying boys and girls have been linked with urban legends relating curses and bad lack, particularly in England, due to its intense emotional iconography. The series of these images, interestingly enough, have been ‘decorating’ a large number of houses of post and pre-war Cyprus.

The installation hosts a repetitive photographic documentation of interiors of Cypriot houses that have been guesting the painting, along with the new version of the image-a reproduction of the painting, showing the boy smiling. The images appear enclosed and overload in a cider-lighted perspex box, as if in a time-capsule and onto IKEA tables. A cheap radio is placed in the box and is in tuned with the state channel RIK (which is loaded with cultural associations.)

The new image has been coloured-in by a local photographer with a colouring technique used up until the 70s and then re-drawn over. The authorship lines are once more blurred. It has then, been printed in a sticker form, so it could be either stuck or framed and has been re-circulated since the exhibition as an edition, baring the signature of various people.

The work reflects on a post-war era that massively reproduced a kind of quiet and habitual depression and melancholy that its sensed presence didn’t really seem to disturb. It reproduces the specter of an era and reinforces a somehow, neurotic and mocking feeling of happiness.