Personal tragedy and loss can offer dark access to shifts in consciousness. In the deserted landscape of grief longings come asking for fulfillment. Follow A Path to the River is both a journey and body of work.
My Mennonite ancestors had established communal settlements in Ukraine in the late 1800s before fleeing to Canada’s prairies half a century later. Research and family conversations enabled me to locate my grandfather’s village, Andreasfeld in the region of Dnipropetrovsk. A historical map indicated a dot on the Dnieper River. I wanted to stand on that soil.
Six months later in 2009 I made a solo journey. A local guide and I drove past fields of red poppies outside of Zaporizhia. We eventually reached the site where Andreasfeld had been. The settlement was now under water due to the 1930’s damming of the Dnieper.
I was compelled to walk down to the river. I needed to get as close as possible. I was surprised by a concrete staircase lying at the water’s edge. Unsure how to adequately respond, knowing we had only a short time, I took photographs, stepping around the vestige, pondering this gift of my trip.
Perhaps the stairway remembers every footfall – part myth, part dream, part fairy tale. I embraced its brokenness and lack of purpose. My work is an examination of separation, displacement, identity and place. Developing ideas is a form of devotion, giving time to unseen value. The process brought me through a most difficult passage of my life but I put it away and have not fully shared or previously exhibited the work. Recent world events, especially in the Ukraine, called me back to the importance of dedicating time and focus as a form of care, and to bringing the ideas forward.