Stratis Vogiatzis is a photographer, filmmaker and an anthropologist. He…
Amongst Kambos orange and mandarin trees, various domestic animals ramble around in the stone fence-enclosed orchards, leading one to believe they weren’t laid there, instead they popped out of nowhere and usurped the land, rendering human presence absurd and discordant.
Kambos animals are the mystics in a realm the rest of us can’t enter, the passers-by that gracefully meander between the underworld and the earthly planet, bearing signaling grunts as they interchange between the two worlds. They are the ones that employ patents to elegantly bridge life’s paradoxes and blur the lines between actual and imaginary, sacred and sacrilegious, dismal and joyful. Donkeys, chickens, ducks, foxes, peacocks, pigs, goats, horses, rabbits, frogs, they exist so that they glue rational and irrational together, mock certainties and premises and croak their jibber-jabber every time the world takes itself seriously.
I had been monitoring a duck in Pantelidis’ estate for quite some time, watching it carve the same route over and over again, passing through the same trunks, going around intersecting, concentric circles, making me feel that it’s been impelled to follow that predefined course by some sort of programming. It’s like free will is a delusion and we rather abide by established forms inside us in a way that our life seems to be governed by continuously repeated patterns, circling in identical orbits before always retreating to its original position. I was wondering, should one could digitize and join the dots standing for the points the duck passed through, what kind of pattern would be unveiled and how this could shed some light on some of the riddles their world is surrounded by.
Stratis Vogiatzis is a photographer, filmmaker and an anthropologist. He grew up in Chios. He has published several books and he has directed several independent documentary films.