A WALK WITH THE LIGHT
exhibition: 31.08. - 28.10.24
photography: Amelie Koerbs
painting: Susanne Kurschat-Körbs
curated by Amelie Koerbs
text "Spätsommerromantik" by Amelie Koerbs (original German)
funded by Kulturstiftung Kreis Schleswig-Flensburg
PHOTOGRAPHY AND PAINTING FROM WOHLDE
LATE SUMMER ROMANCE
I walk far: alone, with my camera over my shoulder and many thoughts in my head. I walk the same paths, but it is the sameness that I long for over and over again. It´s the only way to calm the waves of my sea of thoughts. It´s the only way it becomes quiet up there in my head.
My gaze wanders over the stubble of the cornfield, the trees on the bend, field transitions and the foxes' dens. My eyes look deep into those of Galloweys, black and white´s and blue Belgians; they focus on the line of the horizon in the distance and watch hares and deer lying on the green meadows.
The forest lies before me, I walk on overgrown paths while my fingers brush against the smooth, gray bark of the old, long beech trees. I breathe in deeply, smell the forest scent, the damp earth beneath my feet, young shoots sprouting and the hint of manure on the surrounding fields. All together I call this smell the scent of spring, unique to this small place, called Wohlde. I linger, listen to the rustling leaves, the birds, hear the mooing in the distance and at the other end the tractor ploughing deep through the field.
I keep walking. I rarely meet anyone else and when I do, our steps won't slow down, we only nod slightly. A "Moin" leaves our lips, the volume and length of it indicating how well we know each other. If it's a "Hello" then it's certain that we've both moved here, don't know each other or we've been in the city for too long and have been gone for too long.
I sit down on the hidden, wooden bench behind the tree, my legs and feet resting for a while. I see the small path winding its way between bushes and small, delicate trees deep into the forest. I wonder who else is sitting here on all the other days, thinking like me?
I continue my way, cross the road and follow the long slabs between green, damp meadows and long, tall trees. The Treene is still nowhere in sight, only the dyke and the silhouettes of the sheep lying down in the warm light of the setting sun. The mooing becomes quieter, the tractor remains a soothing hum. The sky is slowly turning orange, purple, red. And even though I have seen it a thousand times, this light is special to me and I am overcome with amazement. It is somehow beautiful up here, in the north between the fields, on the dykes somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It is the simplicity of the landscape, immersed in this late summer romance, that makes me forget everything else.
Dipped in golden light I reach the bathing area. Bicycles are lying in high thick grass, dogs are playing, a kayak is sailing, and the cool water leaves a brown film on the skin of the bathers.
Evening is near, and I return home in the semi-darkness. It is getting quiet outside and the warm light from Wohlde's interior shines out. At the dinner table, reports are made about who was nodded to and what words were exchanged. How many rams and bucks were seen and where the lawn was mowed and the hedge trimmed. At 8 p.m. the evening news is on, followed by the crime scene. The moon rises and only the lights of the tractors cast long beams on the quiet streets. Their hum is like the hum of a familiar lullaby accompanying us all into the night and into the early hours.
Installation shots
Atelier Susanne Kurschat-Körbs, Birkenallee 44, Wohlde
