GFS 930
BFA degree exhibition

The man on the other en paused, as if to catch his breath. “… that’s how I found your phone number.” He sounded apologetic, maybe he was uncomfortable making this call. Anyhow it made me uneasy. I didn’t know what to say. “Hello, are you there… can you hear me?” I let slip a cautious “Yes…” He continued “Someone broke into your car, the window of the driver’s seat is smashed.” Silence again. Thinking. Trying to find myself in the situation. What would one answer, what would be a natural response, anger? I needed more time. “Where’s the car parked?” my voice replied.

He gave me an adress nearby. I asked if we could meet, thanked him and hung up. I had tried my best not to reveal I wasn’t the one he was looking for. “It has happened again” I thought. Hurrying out of the apartment I almost forgot my camera.
His eyes strayed from the desk in front of him and the laptop where he was writing, they fell on the sofa. He had worked hard to make it look like the old one. After a recent attempt to dye the upholstery the present result was far from satisfying. Each modification seemed to go wrong, ending up highlighting the differences instead of concealing them.

In between the two large cushions of the now black and blue sofa he saw what appeared to be the torn off end of a chewing gum packet. It looked like it had been there for months. He hesitated a moment, his mind wandering, then picked up the wrinkled pack and to his surprise found there was still a piece of crumpled chewing gum left. As he put it in his mouth and slowly started to chew he closed his eyes. Fragments appeared, images. What he saw reminded him of a crime scene reconstruction.
He opened a new document and started to write. First, a car door on a stand, the left front door to be precise. The stand, a neat construction in wood, seems to allow the door to be placed and moved without too much trouble. Then, a chair. A stackable type of chair with armrests. The chair faces the external side of the car door, but is placed at a slight angle, so that if a person would be sitting in the chair, he or she could almost catch their own reflection in the side view mirror, had there been one. Next to the chair on the floor lies photocopied sketches for a portrait.

Portrait: Jenny Stigsdotter
Photo: Petter Lehto