WHERE THEY ONCE CALLED HOME
"I was born there," said the lady from Palermo, pointing to a corner of the apartment's living room. "My parents always told me I was born right there." When I rented the vacation apartment for my family, who live in Berlin, Germany, I expected to find only a comfortable place to stay while we explored the region, discovering the landscapes and history of that part of Sicily. However, as soon as I entered the apartment with Mrs. Marilu and her son Giuseppe, I realized the space where we would be staying held layers of stories.
The encounter with the lady and her opening phrase, marking both the beginning of our stay and revealing the start of her own life, inspired me. It was then that I started to focus on the tiny fragments of my family's daily life in that apartment. I realized that each of these images would carry the history of the place—the layers of events that had unfolded on that floor, under the watchful gaze of those walls. People had lived there for so long—sitting in those chairs, eating from those plates, gazing at the same mountains, and even being born in that very corner of the living room.
By capturing familiar everyday moments, this photo essay—created in July 2024 in Palermo, Italy—explores the intersection of foreign and familiar memories made possible by the temporary inhabitation of an apartment that was once someone else's home. It reflects on how spaces, including the private space of a home, are shaped by the interweaving of different times and ways of living, including those of people who no longer reside there.
Ana Cichowicz