From happy Barcelona to bombshelled Kharkov

When we started our trip to Barcelona, everything seemed wonderful to us. It was an escape after two years of pandemic travel restrictions, uncertainty and bad news. The first short vacation together with my wife since a very long time.

It was a true relief.

So far away all the bad news also from what was going on at the Ukrainian border. Enjoing life, warm weather, sightseeing, taking pictures. We did follow some news, took notice of the more and more nervous posts from our friends in Russia and Ukraine on social media. 

But: It was over there, so far away, when walking through the gothic quater, watching Sagrada Familia, enjoying the beachside and loads of delicious seafood.

Until we woke up on 24th of February, the day of our departure. Suddenly our phone messages and social media exploded. The shadow of war fell on us.

Since that day, the world isn’t the same anymore. No need to write anything what is happening in Ukraine or Russia at the moment. You all know it from the media coverage or, like we do, from friends and family. From people, who found shelter in our home in Austria.

I was not able to do anything with all the film I shot in Barcelona. I tried to print some of them in the darkroom, but I don’t feel any sort of inspiration, no ideas what to go for when interpreting the negatives. Just so much sadness and a mighty, scary emptiness inside myself.

There is just one picture, which haunted me in Barcelona, just as if I would have known, that the world of yesterday will stop to exist forever. It is the sculpture of a sad small boy in the Museum of Modernism.

Then I thought it to be a wonderful follow-up of my ongoing series of photographs of scultures.

Now it turns out to be the only thing which might help me to describe the darkness I got thrown into.

And the inability to express myself in words. Here it is…

Barcelona, Museum of Modernism
Barcelona, Museum of Modernism. Nikon FE2, Rollei Retro 80s, Print on Fomatone MG Classic 131 in Moersch SE2