Viktorija Makauskaite
Getting Feet Wet
Handmade book in softcover
Size 205x280mm
104 pages
Edition of 20 copies
Photographed between 2022~2024
Photos, design and text: Viktorija Makauskaitė
Binding and silkscreen support: kteam/HEADQUARTERS Kamakura
Printed with Xerox
Self Published, 2024 Tokyo
This book contains a collection of photos of bad weather: rains, gales, dust storms, etc. All of them I took in my neighborhood park. The project was shot on film, using very simple photographic techniques and only collaborating with natural forces for the special effects.
I wanted to make a book that would feel quite immersive, like listening to an endless music track. A book that would be a little bit intense but not too dramatic. It’s about a place that is homey and familiar as if you've been here too. You’ve seen those ducks and pigeons, and concrete fences imitating wood, brown painted light posts, and purposeless steel boxes in the ponds. There would be nothing new to discover but a change of the seasons in a flip. And you could randomly open the pages from the start, end, or at a quarter, it would not matter so much - wherever you entered, you would end up in a puddle.
It is an intimate work (getting one’s feet wet) about losing oneself in a downpour and becoming a part of it.
Purchase
Handmade book in softcover
Size 205x280mm
104 pages
Edition of 20 copies
Photographed between 2022~2024
Photos, design and text: Viktorija Makauskaitė
Binding and silkscreen support: kteam/HEADQUARTERS Kamakura
Printed with Xerox
Self Published, 2024 Tokyo
This book contains a collection of photos of bad weather: rains, gales, dust storms, etc. All of them I took in my neighborhood park. The project was shot on film, using very simple photographic techniques and only collaborating with natural forces for the special effects.
I wanted to make a book that would feel quite immersive, like listening to an endless music track. A book that would be a little bit intense but not too dramatic. It’s about a place that is homey and familiar as if you've been here too. You’ve seen those ducks and pigeons, and concrete fences imitating wood, brown painted light posts, and purposeless steel boxes in the ponds. There would be nothing new to discover but a change of the seasons in a flip. And you could randomly open the pages from the start, end, or at a quarter, it would not matter so much - wherever you entered, you would end up in a puddle.
It is an intimate work (getting one’s feet wet) about losing oneself in a downpour and becoming a part of it.