video
2023
𓃀
Everything changes when said out loud.
Over the years, I have created a habit of reading poems out loud, mostly when I am on my own; at home or outside. I have the feeling that words can have certain tension, shape, colour, taste. Sometimes the sound of a specific word aligns with its meaning, at times as if you could almost sense how old certain words are. When reading a poem out loud, I can live through every word, I am right in the moment, and therefore right in the poem.
Some time ago, thanks to a lucky coincidence, I got to discover a small book of nine consecutive poems called Winter Palace by a Finnish writer Paavo Haavikko. Its vivid imagery and distinctive use of language got stuck in my head. It made me wonder what it would be like to read the poem out loud while walking in a landscape. How far would the sound take me in the landscape? How would the words meet the landscape, would there be any correlations between the landscape and the words?
My friend Daniel and I walked through Paavo Haavikko’s Winter Palace at dusk, given just enough time to read it before the light disappeared completely.
Over the years, I have created a habit of reading poems out loud, mostly when I am on my own; at home or outside. I have the feeling that words can have certain tension, shape, colour, taste. Sometimes the sound of a specific word aligns with its meaning, at times as if you could almost sense how old certain words are. When reading a poem out loud, I can live through every word, I am right in the moment, and therefore right in the poem.
Some time ago, thanks to a lucky coincidence, I got to discover a small book of nine consecutive poems called Winter Palace by a Finnish writer Paavo Haavikko. Its vivid imagery and distinctive use of language got stuck in my head. It made me wonder what it would be like to read the poem out loud while walking in a landscape. How far would the sound take me in the landscape? How would the words meet the landscape, would there be any correlations between the landscape and the words?
My friend Daniel and I walked through Paavo Haavikko’s Winter Palace at dusk, given just enough time to read it before the light disappeared completely.