Screen Etch Resist On Copper - Printed On Hahnemulle 300 Gsm Edition of 12 Dimensions (WxH): 28 x 38cm
The work of Heidi Borg draws on black-and-white photographs from her family album, images of the sea, of people at the water's edge, of a life shaped by tide and horizon.
Through layering and reworking these photographs, Borg builds visual compositions in which the image dissolves into something less fixed. Embedded in photography is a sense of memory, not as something stable, but as something that shifts each time it resurfaces. By working with this instability, she allows new meanings to emerge from the accumulated layers of time.
Borg's father was a fisherman who never called himself spiritual, yet he seemed deeply attuned to something beyond the everyday. She recalls him sitting in the fading light, staring out toward the sky. Asked as a child what he was doing, he would say: just looking. Only years later did she understand he had been meditating, without ever naming it as such.
The seascape, in Borg's work, holds this same quality, a vastness that invites stillness rather than explanation. The figures in her photographs are not subjects so much as presences: people who knew how to simply be in a place, without needing to define it.
Get notified by email when this product is in stock.
Screen Etch Resist On Copper - Printed On Hahnemulle 300 Gsm Edition of 12 Dimensions (WxH): 28 x 38cm
The work of Heidi Borg draws on black-and-white photographs from her family album, images of the sea, of people at the water's edge, of a life shaped by tide and horizon.
Through layering and reworking these photographs, Borg builds visual compositions in which the image dissolves into something less fixed. Embedded in photography is a sense of memory, not as something stable, but as something that shifts each time it resurfaces. By working with this instability, she allows new meanings to emerge from the accumulated layers of time.
Borg's father was a fisherman who never called himself spiritual, yet he seemed deeply attuned to something beyond the everyday. She recalls him sitting in the fading light, staring out toward the sky. Asked as a child what he was doing, he would say: just looking. Only years later did she understand he had been meditating, without ever naming it as such.
The seascape, in Borg's work, holds this same quality, a vastness that invites stillness rather than explanation. The figures in her photographs are not subjects so much as presences: people who knew how to simply be in a place, without needing to define it.