This is a story about my grandma, stories in her life and her returning into the village where she had grew up. She was 6 when she left the village and 70 when we returned there. People got to the open space since then, invented computer and my grandmother and I use whats app to call each other. And she saw 70 years of history.
It is an exhibition project of 7 pictures.
The project was made during Comic continent residency in 2018.
Imagine yourself sitting at the table with grandmom, looking through photos and listening. Some of the images are overlayed with photos. And the memories are written on the backside of the photos. You can take one and read. I hope that spectators would spend some time to read the text.
Thank you for watching.
My grandmom Lusy was born a barefoot girl in early Soviet time. She become a scientist, she had seen wars and revolutions. She is a history witness. Bit I didn't know it until my 20s. It is difficult to brake through food shiled, everyday routine shield and talk about feelings and important memories with relatives. Lusy is my grandmom. She is a history witness.
Lusy was born in a small village with three streets. The whole family lived all together in her grandmom's house. There was one room, wooden benches to sleep and a special room for the cattle. My grandgrandgrandmom became a widow with 5 children before the revolution. She refused to join the collective farm so she had been dispossessed. They took everything: utensils, cattle, clothes. She had to go to the city to sell goat milk and dolls she did herself. 20km. In bast shoes.
My greatgrandparents were working in the field and raising kids. At 1939 my greatgrandfather had been conscripted to the Russian-Finland war. Then - WWII. He would come back in 7 years.
At the WWII my greatgrandfather was a tank driver, In Latvia in 1945 his tank had been shot down an his eyes were burned.
All this time my great grandmother would raise 3 children in a village by her one. Women in the village were working hard all day and at the night would go to collect wood to warm their houses. Once my greatgrandmother went to the forest and there were no more branches, everything had been collected. So she had to drag the whole tree. And she knew she had to.
At the battlefield back in 1945 greatgrandfather got his eyes burned and his comrade got his legs injured. So one with no legs climbed on blind's back and they managed to leave the field. Greatgrandpa didn't want to come back injured and tried to kill himself at the hospital. They had to tie him up. And he was cured and could see again. He was retired and sent to work in Western Germany till 1946.
He came back after 7 years of wars. He took the family to the city to give children education, learned to read and write himself and had never talked about the war.
In 2015 we visited her home village toghether. I saw the house she lived in, trees she used to climb as a kid and tiny river she was swimming in. I stood in the dark forest with my granny. She remembers this place when it was a field. The forest has grown up during her life.
