Exodus
Exodus moves between history, myth, and personal recollection, tracing the fragile and shifting nature of memory. A fragmented seascape unfolds as both threshold and distance—a space between past and future, hope and uncertainty, escape and entrapment. It evokes the emotional and physical distances migration leaves behind.
The work draws on the childhood memories of Laufer’s father, who, at just three and a half years old in 1947, was among more than 4,500 Jewish refugees aboard the Exodus 1947. The ship—an emblem of post-war displacement and resistance—carried Holocaust survivors toward the British-controlled Mandate of Palestine, only to be violently forced back.
For decades, her father rarely spoke of this journey. Now, recalled with the clarity of age and the unfiltered gaze of a child, his memories surface—not coloured by nostalgia or bitterness, but suspended.
The work lingers on the space where personal memories meet collective history, showing how even the smallest recollections carry the weight of larger stories.
Photo © Ronja Falkenbach
