The story of Sylvia and Stathis represents a side of human life that we usually avoid to see. It' s the side of margin, of human degradation, despair and at the same time of love, companionship, hope and struggle.
Sylvia in their bedroom, contemplating the past and dreaming about the future. She recalls times of the past. The reference to the accident that happened to her in New York and changed her whole life is shattering. She confides that when she was a child her parents left her with her aunt to look after her when they were away. When Sylvia vomited, her aunt would make her eat it to punish her.
Chatting with Stathis about issues that preoccupy him. He wants to come off, to cut. He wants to work, to live again. The next day he is about to meet people of the Municipality of the area, who might help him find a job.
And then, by a lucky fluke, they were offered a new place to live. At least until they find a more permanent solution. Their new home is a caravan, one of those homes that can travel you anywhere. And the journey goes on..
Sylvia in their bedroom, contemplating the past and dreaming about the future. She recalls times of the past. The reference to the accident that happened to her in New York and changed her whole life is shattering. She confides that when she was a child her parents left her with her aunt to look after her when they were away. When Sylvia vomited, her aunt would make her eat it to punish her.
Story description
I met Stathis and Sylvia by chance, through a mutual friend, Giannis, who thought that the environment in which they lived would be of photographic interest to me. Indeed, the canvas of their lives, though damaged up to a point, produced extremely interesting textures, as did the characters themselves. In these people I saw a couple who, like many other couples around us, after years of “traveling” together, have remained companions for each other, so that one couldn’t think the one without the other. So, after Giannis introduced us to each other in 2020, during the quarantine period, I visited them for the first time in their home to get to know us better and explain to them what I was going after. Since our second meeting I began to take pictures of their daily life. These people embraced me and opened up, having understood that my aim wasn’t to make denouncing pictures.
They started to tell me about their lives and feel comfortable in front of my lens. At some point their house burned down. The only things that survived were the frame with the portrait of Stathis’ mother, the albums with their souvenir photos and a silver cross, a souvenir from the period when Stathis worked as a silversmith.
With them resulting in living for a short while in an apocalyptic environment. Unable to afford the required repairs, they got face to face with a big dead end. The only option they had was to be listed among those who live on the street, at least until they found a solution. Once again one supported the other and together they faced perhaps the harshest side of life in the modern metropolis. Until a friend offered them the opportunity to stay temporarily in a caravan in a coastal area of Athens and along with this the opportunity to keep hoping. One way or another, the journey goes on...
One of the evenings I was about to leave their apartment, Sylvia accompanies me to the exit. As we both step outside into the hallway, she closes the front door behind her and with quick movements she lifts her long skirt, pulls from the side of her underwear a small clear plastic with folded white journal pages, all held together with a packing rubber band These are for you, she says and hands them to me.
When I got home I tried to see what it was. It was a piece of clear plastic, cut from a Dimple whiskey packet. Behind it I could see folded pages that seemed to have been removed from a desk calendar. Through the transparency of the plastic, on the top left corner, I read Friday 27 and just below words written in black pen. I pull the rubber band and unfold the sheets of paper. I see three calendar pages, each with two handwritten stories – fairy tales. Tucked inside, folded between them, there is another page: a letter addressed to me. As I open it, three hearts painted with tempera unfold before me, and on one of them, a dedication appears,personal
and tender.Part of this material was copied and included in the zine, bound with a rubber band reminiscent of the original, the one that held everything together when she gave it to me. This part forms a separate chapter, presenting Sylvia’s creative work, the most intimate and unrefined piece of herself.
Award
First prize in the annual Photojournalism Award for professional photographers "Athens Photo World Award". Under the auspices of the Stavros Niarchos foundation
Zine. Handmade edition
In this Zine the photographic history of the couple is enriched with some of the creative material Sylvia gave me. This body is a separate chapter and is joined with elastic to resemble the bundle that contained them when she gave them to me. For more information
Zine. Box set pecial edition
This box set includes the handmade zine together with an original print on archival ilford paper (ilfosol 120gr) measuring 12.7Χ17.8 cm, a poster printed on velvet paper 120gr measuring 29.7Χ42 cm (A3) and three paper postcards velvet 150gr, dimension 10.5X14.7cm. For more information