Nadja Akbar

The origin of all materials. The creation of life from clay begins with a stone. In this artificial cave, there is a desire to create life from illusion and collective memory.

I try to preserve memories from my parent’s past- memories that shaped me, memories that bled out into my subconscious and left traces of sorrow, longing, and love. Growing up, I heard stories about homes destroyed, sisters brushing each other’s hair too hard, the names of the streets, the fruits in the garden, what has been lost, and what remains.

Memories flow in and out of our mouths, painting imaginary pictures in our minds. Sometimes I can’t tell our memories apart or if the family photos have etched a false memory.

I’m afraid of losing myself when my parents die. Therefore, I fantasize about my sculptures as a legacy, something that will not be lost. Not something that someone can blow away, loot, or force me to leave. It’s my mother tongue.