I grew up in the catholic Alps. 1990s. Working-class family. There were no lesbians there, they didn’t exist. I’m not even sure if the word was part of my vocabulary. My queer awakening, often referred to as coming out, came much later. It probably would have happened sooner if I had had role models.
The lack of queer examples I describe is not just a biographical experience but a reflection of a societal system that excludes certain individuals from historical narratives. In my work, I engage with archives and the gaps they present regarding queer realities in the Alpine and rural areas.
What is a library if not an archive? In the Andreas Züst Library, I searched for these gaps to fill, rewrite or correct. I looked for codes and searched between the lines for lesbian semiotics. I wrote letters, mostly to people who are already gone. The letter, as a method of these additions, allows me to – in a speculative way – engage with those people rather than discuss them, while also addressing these narrative gaps collectively. In the obvious delay in response, absence is revealed – another blank space that must be borne. Yet it is precisely in these gaps that new realities may unfold.
The letters are printed on filigrane paper and have been activated through a reading at the open studio at the end of the residency. They will remain in some books in the library as an expansion of the collection.
October 2024
Text + Fotos Nr. 1-5 : Alizé Rose-May | Foto Nr. 6: Flavia Bienz