Dionis Escorsa · Works · Collaborations

 

Double disapparition Dionis Escorsa

Double disapparition Dionis Escorsa

Double disapparition Dionis Escorsa

Double disapparition Dionis Escorsa

Double disapparition Dionis Escorsa


Double Disappearance
La desaparición doble

 

A few years ago, in Berlin, we had to rent out a room. Someone called. We met up that very afternoon. He liked the space, paid in advance, and began to bring his things. He had a lorry parked nearby, and filled up his entire room. He informed us that he would have to leave on the following day to go to Hamburg, and that he would return within a week. That night he slept amid his boxes, and on the following morning disappeared for good. We never saw him again.

We only started to worry when we had to pay for the second month's rent. We decided to open his boxes. His whole life was contained inside them.

We filmed the contents. From his childhood toys, his clothes, his toilet bag, or his books, to his family albums, his porn magazines, his schoolbooks. We learned his name. We saw hundreds of photos of him. We got to know his girlfriends. We knew how his face looked as a child, where he had worked, his hobbies. We called several numbers we found on some notebooks. We gave up after a few days. Because of him we had ran into debt and had to leave Berlin. His things remained in the flat.

Soon after that, at a gas station, my van was broken into and my video camera stolen. Inside the bags were the tapes containing the shots of the contents of the boxes of the disappeared man. That was the man's second disappearance, most surely his final one. I recently found these photographs on an old mobile phone.

 

Hace unos años, en Berlin, tuvimos que realquilar una habitación. Llamó un interesado. Pagó por adelantado. Ese mismo día, trajo un camión y llenó por completo su habitación de trastos. Durmió esa noche y al día siguiente nos dijo que se iba a Hamburg y que volvería en una semana. Nunca lo volvimos a ver.

Cuando tocó pagar el segundo mes, empezamos a preocuparnos. Abrimos sus cajas en busca de alguna pista. Dentro de esas cajas estaba toda su vida.

Filmamos el contenido. Desde sus juguetes de niño, toda su su ropa, su neceser o sus libros hasta sus álbumes de familia, sus revistas porno o los cuadernos de la escuela. Supimos como se llamaba. Vimos centenares de fotos suyas. Conocimos a sus novias. Supimos que cara tenía de niño, en dónde había trabajado o cuales eran sus aficiones. Llamamos a varios números. Al final desistimos. Por su culpa nos habíamos endeudado demasiado con el alquiler y tuvimos que huir de Berlin. Las cosas se quedaron en el piso.

Poco después, en una gasolinera, me abrieron mi furgoneta y me robaron la cámara de video. En la bolsa estaban también las cintas con las tomas del contenido de las cajas del hombre desaparecido. Esa fue la segunda desaparición de ése hombre, seguramente la definitiva. Descubrí recientemente estas pocas fotos en un viejo teléfono móvil.

 

2004 · Installation · 5 Photographies, 1 of them retouched, 1 text.