The Black Pool (2017 – 2018)
Blackpool on England‘s northwest coast is one of the most popular seaside resorts in the UK. But despite an increasing number of tourists, the town‘s economic and social situation is precarious: Hundreds of hotels are in a state of decay, the unemployment and drug abuse rates are among the highest in Great Britain. Still, the town is presenting itself as a place of joy where tourists and locals may escape the reality of everyday life.
The Black Pool is a work about the thin line between monotony and distraction, between illusion and disillusion.
He stole a sports car, raced down the promenade chased by the police –
crashed into the railing. He served several years in prison.
‘You know Afghan Dan, mate? Afghan Dan?’ he asks, showing me a YouTube video.
‘He‘s a friend, living in my neighborhood. He‘s telling the truth about this place.’
‘We‘re having a German in the house tonight.’ he announces to the crowd. ‘Please be nice!’ He turns the music back on, some Italo pop song.
‘I‘m thinking about your willy while you take my portrait, so you will get a good one.’ As I leave, he shouts ‘Sieg Heil!’ into the microphone and lifts his right arm – being one of the most warmhearted persons I have met.
‘I‘m an actor. I‘m really good at imitating people. Last year you could see my face on a billboard.’ The next day I would meet him again, sitting on the pavement in front of a pub, asking for a pound.
It's her eyes that attract me. Eyes dyed by the sea. ‘I‘m working in entertainment.’ she says. That‘s all she would tell me.
‘Mate, isn‘t it beautiful?’ he shouts from behind. ‘It is.’ I say.
‘What else do you need? I come here everyday, watching the sun go down on Ireland …
see, my wife died early. I dedicated my life to my children. Now I dedicate it to him.’
patting his dog, L O V E tattooed on his knuckles.
The Black Pool (2017 – 2018)
Blackpool on England‘s northwest coast is one of the most popular seaside resorts in the UK. But despite an increasing number of tourists, the town‘s economic and social situation is precarious: Hundreds of hotels are in a state of decay, the unemployment and drug abuse rates are among the highest in Great Britain. Still, the town is presenting itself as a place of joy where tourists and locals may escape the reality of everyday life.
The Black Pool is a work about the thin line between monotony and distraction, between illusion and disillusion.
He stole a sports car, raced down the promenade chased by the police – crashed into the railing. He served several years in prison.
‘You know Afghan Dan, mate? Afghan Dan?’ he asks, showing me a YouTube video. ‘He‘s a friend, living in my neighborhood. He‘s telling the truth about this place.’
‘We‘re having a German in the house tonight.’ he announces to the crowd. ‘Please be nice!’ He turns the music back on, some Italo pop song.
‘I‘m thinking about your willy while you take my portrait, so you will get a good one.’ As I leave, he shouts ‘Sieg Heil!’ into the microphone and lifts his right arm – being one of the most warmhearted persons I have met.
‘I‘m an actor. I‘m really good at imitating people. Last year you could see my face on a billboard.’ The next day I would meet him again, sitting on the pavement in front of a pub, asking for a pound.
It's her eyes that attract me. Eyes dyed by the sea. ‘I‘m working in entertainment.’ she says. That‘s all she would tell me.
‘Mate, isn‘t it beautiful?’ he shouts from behind. ‘It is.’ I say.
‘What else do you need? I come here everyday, watching the sun go down on Ireland …
see, my wife died early. I dedicated my life to my children. Now I dedicate it to him.’
patting his dog, L O V E tattooed on his knuckles.