Inside out

I collect traces of time, traces of transition from one state to another. Time is a key element, it allows us to move forward, to grow, but it also leads us to old age and death.
Time is perceived differently at different ages and according to different experience.
When one is under the spell of fun or fulfilling activities, time dissolves itself but it becomes heavy and thick when one is bored or waiting. Prison is the ultimate waiting room, waiting for mail, for family visits, friends, lawyers, parole hearings.

My interest about time in prison led me to meet some prisoners and their families. I was deeply touched by the distress of the families and I progressively started to focus on their experience.

“My personal experience of time is of memory, for to experience is already passed. Time sprints by when I act or think within my inner core of wishes. It passes slowly when I act out of obligation or duty, and distinctly crawls when waiting in anticipation. Time was once a joy to plan; now it is a curse, as I deny the confinement strung years ahead in time. Where time once meant sharing and the fullness of achievement and creation, it now means emptiness, for all is hollow when confined three thousand miles from those I love.”
Gayle K Horii wrote this text in 1988 while she was incarcerated.

“Prison was like a factory. A big factory that manufactured nothing, except time, filed time, crushed time, reduced time, choked lives and limited moves. The prisoners were like strange workers, without machines, without lunchboxes, but they followed timesheets, paths, orders.” Thus witnesses Philippe Claudel who was during eleven years a teacher of literature at a penitentiary.

If the prisoner can see a part of his life “crushed”, “choked”, his family also suffers such consequences without having committed any crime. They are small compared to prison but they affect innocent persons. I wished to let them speak.

I want to ask them to talk as if they were talking to their jailed relative, to leave him a message even though it is uncertain he will ever hear it. By directly talking to the prisoner, they share with us their feelings, how they live the jailing of their relative. Through the messages, for a few seconds, we share their lives, their mindsets, their feelings, their sensations… Each message is a sound portrait of whoever talks and their family.

Another aspect of this project is to give out a very humanist, personal and almost intimate image of the prisoner since it is the vision of someone who lived with him.

The families are real, as are the cases; however it is not a documentary but rather a close-up, almost sensual approach, of lives. Every family has wounds and scars but they are often hidden, sometimes even denied, repressed. The families I recorded live the jailing of their relative, the wounds are open and the feelings and emotions exacerbated.

With this piece, I am trying to raise questions about the place of art in front of reality, the threshold between private and public life, the line between empathy and voyeurism.