Alexandra Topaz

‘All really inhabited space bears the essence of the notion of home. (...) the imagination functions in this direction whenever the human being has found the slightest shelter (...) An entire past comes to dwell in a new house.’

(Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space)

The video Homeward / Домой / הביתה reconstructs a forgotten childhood home based on my personal memories. Accompanied by a series of digitally created still-life images using real objects and photographs, it explores the plasticity of memory. Through the process of deconstruction and re-composition, the film captures an elusive image of home, expanding its collective notion through the lens of personal stories and memories. By inviting viewers to reflect on their own memories and images of home, this project delves into how our identity is manifested within our homes and how our homes shape our identity.

The video portrays the reconstruction of my earliest remembered home in Jerusalem, which I moved into after immigrating from Moscow, Russia. It is based on a blueprint I sketched from memory and photographs sourced from my family album.

1.

A digital collage reconstructs a Persian carpet that has been a constant companion, travelling with me through the different houses I've lived in. My parents brought it from Russia to Israel, and in every place we lived, it underwent a transformation. In our first home, it was hung on the wall next to my bed. Later, as I started my own family, we placed it on the floor of our living room. The collage is composed using fragments cut from various photographs taken at different times and places where the carpet resided in our homes over the years.

2.

The project began with a short hands-on exercise: drawing from memory all the floorplans of the homes I have lived in. I could recall eight permanent ones. The most interesting part was how the act of drawing on paper became a method for remembering, like a device. As soon as I started drawing, memories of places, objects, corners, events, and sometimes photographs taken immediately emerged.

3.

The winter of 1992, our first winter in Israel, was the coldest and rainiest winter in 90 years. My mom recalls how strange it felt to experience snow through Israeli eyes. Everyone was excited, and the city fell completely silent as nobody was prepared for this weather condition. For her, coming from freezing Moscow, snow was a regular occurrence every winter, but this snow was extraordinary.

4.

A ceramic Gzhel kettle, a sugar bowl, and a wooden Khokhloma bowl travelled with us from Russia to Israel and to all of the houses we lived in. I remember the smell of the wooden bowl filled with black tea leaves and that time when someone accidentally broke the sugar bowl. The crack where we glued it back together is still visible. Gzhel is a Russian style of blue and white ceramics named after the village of Gzhel and the surrounding area, where it has been produced since 1802. Khokhloma is a style of Russian folk art dating back to the 17th century. It gets its name from a village in Central Russia that became a trading post where local craftsmen brought their brightly decorated tableware to sell.

5.

I remember my dad singing songs to us while playing this guitar, mostly Russian songs. Later on, I realized that his initials were inscribed on the guitar (which also came with us from Russia).

6.

Tradescantia zebrina, previously known as Zebrina pendula, is a creeping plant species belonging to the Tradescantia genus. It is commonly referred to as silver inch plant or Wandering Jew. It is known for its resilience and adaptability, as it can thrive in nearly any environment. This particular Wandering Jew was brought by my father from Russia to Israel, and he has fond memories of having it at home during his childhood.

A multi-sensory installation presenting a room from the turn of the 20th century, using game engines to generate hyperreal views seen from a window within the room. 

Inspired by the first photograph ever taken in history, depicting a view from a window in 1826, and Simulation Theory in 2003, the installation critiques the way we perceive the world around us, questioning what is real, and what is simulated.

A Room With A View was created by Alex in collaboration with Devanshi Rungta and Laura Selby, as part of an LG-Royal College of Art competition where it won second place. It was exhibited in the LUMINOUS exhibition in September 2022 in Old Street Gallery, London. Alex was responsible for concept development, set design, 3D visuals, and animation.

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Exhibition text:

We use our senses to perceive the world, but what if our senses deceive us? How does the screen’s presence in our life affect our perception of what is real? Is all of this real or a mere simulation?

The first photograph ever taken in history was of a view from a window (View from the Window at Le Gras, 1826). It was a critical moment in history in which, through technology, reality was flattened onto a surface by means of light. It marked the shift in the way we perceive the world around us - flattened, framed, duplicated. 

A Room With A Viewrefers to the first photograph through the lense ofSimulation Theory. Almost 200 years afterView from the Window at Le Gras was taken, we are surrounded by screens in all shapes and sizes. Developments in technology have allowed not only for the mundane to be compressed again and again onto screens, but for new worlds to emerge from these devices - imitating the real - and changing it. 

The room before you presents a space from the turn of the 20th century in which the OLED accurate picture quality and cinematic sound features, depict a view seen from the window. Upon closer inspection, the view is realised to be computer-generated, a crafted illusion of the outside world, enhanced by a soundworld of auditory perception in a state of flux. Using game engine rendering software, the installation reflects on the technological progression towards hyper-realistic environments in games and XR experiences.

Our encounter with the world today is constantly filtered through screens, affecting the high quality images we consume and also our material surroundings. While our body is present in the physical world, our mind perceives virtual realities that transcend time and place, teleporting us into parallel worlds. The installation reflects upon this tension between the virtual and the physical, inviting visitors to question and critique what is real, and what is simulated.

The film 'As If You Are Walking In A Certain Past' (2022) is a reconstruction of a home in which I once resided but cannot recall. It holds particular significance in my personal history as it was the last place I lived before immigrating from Russia to Israel. Through interviews with my parents, research conducted via Google Maps and online archives, as well as extensive material exploration on the USSR during the 1980s-1990s, I constructed a model of that elusive home. This endeavor aimed to revisit a lost memory and serves as the foundation of my ongoing research.