Before moving to Arnhem, the cities where I lived were big metropolises with millions of inhabitants. I felt a drastic difference in the rythm of the city: how fast people walk, how late they stay out, how they behave in the supermarket queue, and so many little aspects of our daily lives. But one thing is common wherever you are. Occasionally, the entire place will turn into a ghost town, due to an important football game, a holiday, or sometimes a pandemic crysis. The eerie feeling is the same in bucolic towns of 200 inhabitants or vertical concrete jungles that sprawl beyond the horizon. All the sound is gone. The silence is deafening. Where is everybody?
But I only get this feeling of solitude because I know what was there before. I see their footprints, in the form of constructions, drawings on the wall, plastic bags floating in the wind and, well, footprints. I explored this idea further with my project. By creating humanesque shapes in 3D and texturing/morphing them by sourcing the materiality of things people leave behind, like plastic, construction materials, art, and positioning them in ghost town scenarios, I try to make the connection that you can leave, but your impression on your surroundings is permanent.