roots

Katerina Gogou's poems ‘The roots are not supposed to take us back, they are to grow branches. If they don’t grow branches, they are sticks, firewood, barricade.’ was the incentive for the creation of this sculpture.
In the Cyclades’ landscape where I grew up, the coasts are surrounded by trees called tamarisks known for their ability to branch out their strong root system at a great depth, sometimes even reaching very close to sea water. In fact, their greek name (αλμυρίκι) stands for their unique ability to withstand salt and thrive in a relatively hostile environment for common plants.

Due to the tourist development in Greece and especially on its islands, these trees are often cut off in order to be replaced by umbrellas, seats and beach bars. Experiencing the loss of these trees, I gathered the freshly-cut roots of one of them and tried to fit them into the molds of my own feet. Stepping on the ground in a dancing move they grow like branches, twisting, entwining and creating.

I would like to talk to you about these trees that keep shade and resist to the wind in winter, about their color that completes the color palette from the blue of the sea to the red soil of the coast, about the children who climb on them and about the one who will sit under them to listen to the sea.
Someday I will do it, but there will be no more trees for you to understand.