“In September 2011, a boy came forward to Berlin authorities, claiming, in his report, that he had lived the last five years in the woods together with his father. After the father died, the boy, who calls himself Ray, buried him and walked northwards, as the father had told him to, ending up in Berlin.
His mother had already died years ago in a car accident. The boy claims he doesn’t know much information about his identity, such as his place of birth. He spoke English, but it didn't seem to be his mother tongue; his German was limited.
After finding out nothing about Ray’s past and because of doubts about his report and questions about financing his status, half a year later, the police published Ray’s photo. Quickly it became clear that the boy never lived in the woods, but had escaped from a former life in The Netherlands, changed his name and age and moved to Berlin.”
“In spring 2012, Mother told me on the phone that the hut got burned down. The hut was built in 1996 by some kids from the village, including my brother. In fact, within a year, they replaced the first by a second, bigger construction. They used the place to hang around. I myself had really nothing to do with it as I already lived for many years in the city. But I took photos of the kids and the hut when I visited them occasionally. Over the years, I tell when they stopped using the place and when the hut started to fall apart. Good news, I thought.”
The exhibition Since then never again so good is composed of a series of photographs, taken since 1996 to 2012, as well as an artist book. The work is part of the artist’s research into the shift of meaning associated with place, over time.
