My Brother

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My Brother: 18-21

The rite of passage to their adulthood did not include harsh fasting, wounds, lion hunting or massacres of Helots. It includes a cake with 18 candles, exchanges of greetings from loved ones, perhaps even gifts. They are the children that, in their teens, saw their fathers lose their jobs and saw the economic crisis invading their homes, like an enemy. They were about 14 years old, when the first memorandum was signed, and now they are in their twenties. They see boys their age, abandoning their ruined-by-the-war homes, and falling into the sea in search of a way to survive. At the same time they see boys their age arriving by “divine intervention” into the center of Europe, strapped with explosives, in order to become martyrs – heroes and the people that were around them at the time, will just become innocent victims.

So, the rite of passage to their adulthood predicts that they will not be able to do everything they had dreamed. But they continue to dream. Children that became young men, born in the country with the least perspective, without bombs over their heads, nor loaded guns to point at them. Perhaps with indebted credit cards and with less food in their refrigerators. But it is not the same. It is one thing to be locked in an empty cage, and a different thing if you are locked in a cage with a hungry tiger. That is why they will continue to dream…

In My Brother I tried for more than one reason to meet a group of young people of a specific age. Boys, 18-21 years old, in a country that adversely affects any vision or effort. But at the same time, these are the boys at the age where their desire to live becomes their basic manual for survival.

My Brother: The Dream

...Shortly after, he came in my dream. My brother, sitting in an empty room. There was a beautiful bracelet wrapped around his hand, like a glove. A bracelet with bright stones, with wonderful colors. "Where I am" he said, "we work and we make these" and showed me his ornate hand. "We give these to the young people arriving here," he said. I was trying to discern his face, to make sure it was my brother, to capture his image, as best as I could. Until his features began to change. His face changed into the face of another boy and then another and then another ... so many different faces and I just want to recognize his. Looking to find him. To see him again before he disappears. Before he is lost inside the dream. Throughout these young faces, there is something of my brother's face, who exists somewhere and greets those who arrive with gifts... My brother passed away by his 21st summer. This project is my attempt to find him again, in the faces of boys his age.

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