J. (by Madli Maruste)

I approached Vilnius with a lot of questions. I tried to understand the multicultural past and present of the city that has been previously known by the Jewish people as Vilna and by the Polish as Wilno. I soon realised that I had too many questions within a very limited time and it is impossible to get answers to all of these during my one week stay in Vilnius. I decided to stop demanding answers, let go of control and let the city talk in it`s own way to me.

The next night I met with a person, someone who opened a door to Vilnius I did not know much about before. I realised talking to him that through one lifestory city`s history, language and identity can reveal themselves in a unique way. I decided to do my project about our interaction. For me the text I wrote and the photos I took represented the past that might still haunt the people after decades. The life narratives of a lot of people living in Vilnius were cut through so suddenly and aggressively during World War II, and the character of the city changed completely.

When someone`s roots are cut, then the routes in his life are disrupted as well. The city becomes a place to hide, but at the same time a place that haunts. The city is like a labyrinth of all the memories of people, who used to live there, but it is also a lost love letter to hopes and dreams that never materialised. When one ethnic group loses the places in the city that used to be the cornerstones of their identity, they might always feel homeless. Is it possible to fill this void in the soul? Can the city give them shelter and understanding, or is it hostile towards people who are the reminders of the layered history and sad secrets of a nation?

(text by Madli Maruste)

J. from Madli Maruste on Vimeo.