Caroline Sohie
Alles heeft zijn tijd / Everything in its time
‘Alles heeft zijn tijd’ addresses the fear of forgetting.
Everything has its time...is the literal translation. It is my father's philosophical response to the sudden death of two cacti he had been caring for over a period of many years. This phrase carries a quiet wisdom about letting go of control and trusting the natural timing of life’s events.
Recently returning to the family home to assist my ageing parents, I realised I had never photographed there before, childhood had felt too close, too dense to confront.
The objects in the house had become silent witnesses to the far-away places my
parents once lived in and the lives they shared. Exploring the geography of the home, the work moved beyond its physical skin, revealing an intricate constellation of relations; an intimate, emotional landscape beneath the surface of daily life.
The distorted concept of memory as being absolute and static. The images exist in the in-between, in the fluid act of remembering. Our memories contract and expand, erode and transform; transcending who we are. Within the stillness of the image, I explore the disquiet beauty of this vulnerability and engage with my own transient existence.
Our domestic spaces and rituals serve as gentle reminders of who we are, what we desire, hope for, love, and honour. We strive to preserve the home in a memorial timelessness; a museum of a life lived.
Artdoc Photography Magazine
https://www.artdoc.photo/issue/beyond-the-frame
THE RED THAT STAINS
Tanzania, 2015 - 2015
Slow violence is like a nosebleed—first a trickle, then a heavy red spreads, staining daily life. In Bagamoyo, Tanzania, this erosion has been centuries in the making. Extraction and global encroachment unfold quietly, yet their traces are everywhere.
Once a waypoint on the East African slave trade route, this coastal town has long been shaped by external forces—colonial rule, resource extraction, and now, globalised investments that redraw its physical and social contours.
In the stillness of the image, I explore a violence of delayed destruction, dispersed across time and space. Behind an idyllic beauty, land, sea, and people are extracted, displaced, and recast in narratives not of their own making.
The images exist in an in-between—tradition and modernity, nature and urban, local and global—where identities shift like tides. My fragmented gaze echoes this fluid condition. Slow violence seeps in, imperceptible at first, until nothing is as it was.
The red remains
