WATERWALK ENCOUNTERS
shells, sand, fish skin, ropes, nets, lures, buoys, grass, kelp, feathers, glass floats, ocean plastic, driftwood, stones
Odenplan metro station, Stockholm, 2023
"I’m seven years old, playing by the river. Shells and feathers, sand and plastic debris – I'm making tiny creatures that will be taken away by the tide. My grandfather is fishing nearby, throwing silver lures for silver fish.
I’m dreaming of my friends swimming in the ocean. Like synchronized swimmers, who are learning how to move in tune, they are stumbling, smiling, gracious in their clumsiness, holding their wave-hands and dancing in fluid roundelays.
I wake up and go for a usual walk along the water line. Small shells, making tingly cracklings; big shells, looking like porcelain plates; pieces of colorful plastic, shipwrecks and driftwood. Birds are diving and their cone-shaped bottoms are sticking up like inflatable buoys. Taller than me grass at the brims is singing in her language. Glass floats, drifted ashore after centuries of floating, are shimmering like gigantic blue caviar. The intestines of entangled mooring ropes and nets are almost breathing.
In the time of ebb, I find big porous stones of peculiar shape. I’m not sure what those stones are. What I know -- they, like all of us, have a story of swimming, and their shape has been formed by the flow of water. Hello water, I want to be a sculptor too."
Weaving together natural and industrial materials, found in and near water, Anastasia Savinova addresses the beauty and sublimity of the world, intimate connections between organisms, and fragility of ecosystems in the age of mass extinction. The installation brings a world of water beings into an “aquarium” in the middle of the metro station.
shells, sand, fish skin, ropes, nets, lures, buoys, grass, kelp, feathers, glass floats, ocean plastic, driftwood, stones
Odenplan metro station, Stockholm, 2023
"I’m seven years old, playing by the river. Shells and feathers, sand and plastic debris – I'm making tiny creatures that will be taken away by the tide. My grandfather is fishing nearby, throwing silver lures for silver fish.
I’m dreaming of my friends swimming in the ocean. Like synchronized swimmers, who are learning how to move in tune, they are stumbling, smiling, gracious in their clumsiness, holding their wave-hands and dancing in fluid roundelays.
I wake up and go for a usual walk along the water line. Small shells, making tingly cracklings; big shells, looking like porcelain plates; pieces of colorful plastic, shipwrecks and driftwood. Birds are diving and their cone-shaped bottoms are sticking up like inflatable buoys. Taller than me grass at the brims is singing in her language. Glass floats, drifted ashore after centuries of floating, are shimmering like gigantic blue caviar. The intestines of entangled mooring ropes and nets are almost breathing.
In the time of ebb, I find big porous stones of peculiar shape. I’m not sure what those stones are. What I know -- they, like all of us, have a story of swimming, and their shape has been formed by the flow of water. Hello water, I want to be a sculptor too."
Weaving together natural and industrial materials, found in and near water, Anastasia Savinova addresses the beauty and sublimity of the world, intimate connections between organisms, and fragility of ecosystems in the age of mass extinction. The installation brings a world of water beings into an “aquarium” in the middle of the metro station.
photo: Hans Ekestang
photo: Hans Ekestang
