BORDERLANDS. CHAPTER IV. ABANDONMENT
BORDERLANDS. CHAPTER III. RECOVERY
SNOW WHITES
Young Cuba
Dom
Elena
Series
Borderlands. Chapter III. Recovery.
ONGOING
Rather than capturing the physical borderline, I was interested in exploring people’s memories, feelings, and hopes. I took portraits of people from both sides, asking each of them to draw the border – not as they see it, but as they feel it. The sketches were intimate and subjective and turned into another layer of storytelling. 

What began as an assigned topic gradually unfolded into a personal investigation. The project is ongoing, and the four remaining chapters explore places I have lived in. Each unfolds in a different geographical context and captures a distinct stage or dimension of the border. The methodology shifts from place to place, incorporating elements of drawing, search, performance, and self-portraiture. This story becomes Chapter III, devoted to the stage of recovery.
When countries are not at war, borders are often overlooked. The contrast between two sides blurs, becoming less linear and more complex. But silence is never neutral. I believe it is vital to observe borders during quiet times, when change is forming.

“Borderlands” started as an assignment when I was doing a fellowship in Italy. I was to go to Gorizia and Nova Gorica, the two towns that were jointly named the European Capital of Culture in 2025. My goal was to explore what was happening in the region where the slogan “go borderless” was circulating at that time. What I found out is that the area seemed borderless for some, but far not for everyone. 

After World War II, the new political border left the historic city of Gorizia in Italy. In response, Yugoslavia constructed Nova Gorica almost from scratch as a modernist border town. The line divided families, infrastructures, and daily life, reorganizing the region along ideological lines. Although, after Slovenia joined the Schengen zone, the border became far less noticeable, in 2020, following the COVID pandemic, the border control has re-emerged, and now the police are still there.


ongoing
"I’ll always remember the first time I went to the Transalpina and the border was gone, and for the first time, I could actually see the surrounding landscape. Before, I couldn’t, because the fence blocked your view. That was the border: a heavy, gloomy feeling, honestly. Closure. Control."
"I always feel the presence of the border when I cross it, even if I walk through the woods. Actually I feel the presence of the border even when I don’t cross it. People always talk about it, so if you listen to something all your life, well yeah, it becomes somehow present in the back of your head."
"It’s like Slovenia and Italy — they’re the same, but they’re different. Like a cliff and the valley, the hollow.
"
"I hope that fascism will stop and we’ll stop making differences between nations. We had our history, bad and good, whatever it was. I hope people will wake up and learn to live in peace. It is what I really wish, for the sake of my grandchildren and all grandchildren."
"The border is invisible but still present in subtle ways. It separates less than it used to, but it still shapes how we see ourselves and each other."
"The fox will always find a hole in the fence or make one. And hack the cameras."
"They’ll stop you if they want to. They have the power — you’re still in another country. That’s why, in my opinion, the border will always exist. It’s a mindset thing." "Christianity is above it all."
"I feel like there is a continuous road but we, people, cut it by ourselves."
"I don’t know. I don’t know. There was a border 70 years ago. I don’t remember it well because I was a child when there was a border here. It feels like there’s no border now."
"When I gotta explain to tourists where the border is, I'd like to talk about the history and say, “Look — you can’t even tell where the border is, because there’s no physical barrier.” And I hope one day that will be true in our heads too. Here, it’s just nature — and you don’t know where the border is."
"If you want to see the border, you can see it everywhere."
"I drew this because the police are there, and I wouldn’t want to go near them. Just because… well, they’re the police."
"It’s a word that now feels almost obsolete, meaningless. It’s a word that you don’t really feel here anymore."
"I drew reality where we are now and I also drew what I hope for in the future. There’s an open door that represents the opening of the city. In other parts, there are also open doors. In the future, where my future child will grow up, I hope the towns will be more open, more connected, more influenced by each other."
"I go running in the forest in Slovenia, where I feel relaxed, but when I return and see the sign that I’m back in Italy, I don’t know why, but I feel safer. That’s what the border evokes in me. I still believe I live in two cities, not just one. Maybe it will be different for my children, but for now, I still feel the two cities are separate."
"There was really, like, military, you know? All of a sudden, with the guns and stuff. We thought it was ridiculous because it’s like — who sent you? Like, we are the people of one city. It’s not even divided."
"When I was younger, the border was full of controls. You’d see everything being checked, everyone getting stopped. I used to smuggle cigarettes. Well, for me, it wasn’t... smuggling. I used to put the carton of cigarettes behind my back and cross over.
"
"It’s a door because you can easily open it."
"Roses are a symbol of Nova Gorica and of beauty. The heart on the ball the two guys are playing with represents love. Love between two nations and maybe between two people from different sides of the border."
"The word border? For me, it’s like makeup. It makes you look interesting to outsiders when you say where you're from."
"The moment when I’ve felt the border more strongly than ever is right now. We went from open and free borders to ones blocked by police forces conducting excessive checks."
"The border is a scar here. It is a scar. It definitely is."
"To be honest, the word border means nothing to me. I feel like it's all the same place. I don't really think about it. It's just a geographical thing. Not something good or bad. I just see it as one whole area."
"The border, and me, and the things like the bench — it’s all just temporary, and nature is going to outlive us all. The border is manmade, but nature doesn’t care."