Exodus I
Inspired by a few specific memories her father first shared at the age of 82—recollections from when he was just three and a half years old aboard the refugee ship Exodus in 1947—Laufer’s Exodus traces a layered passage between past and present, personal and collective, seen and felt, remembered and reimagined.
Painted textiles are suspended at varying heights and lengths from the wooden beams of the exhibition space, forming a fragmented, immersive seascape. Resisting linear storytelling and inviting a quiet act of attention through movement, Laufer places snippets of her father’s memories directly onto the fabric—partially visible, embedded within drawn lines.
What emerges is a quiet encounter—intimate, open-ended, and in motion. The seascape becomes a kind of heterotopia: like the ship, it occupies an in-between state—neither entirely here nor there, but suspended between memory and projection, presence and displacement.
Photos © Ronja Falkenbach
