mqabba

you.
you are there, all around me.

today, we look back at each other.

yes, we know each other very well.

I step off the plane.
and then it hits me hard – that dry and sweet air.

we have visited this island more than twenty times.

bougainvillea.

its vivid pink plumes
strewn, scattered along the sides of roads.
filling up the courtyard of our grandfather’s garden.

the humming humming
cicadas.

traffic whirrs

this landscape,
made of shadow
and light 


we had heard the music together
we had laughed often day and night

gremxula, you said.

now I watch the sun pouring down onto that golden earth

the dust disturbed by our foot steps
its particles hang in the void
captured by beams of light

a pool
lacquered with dancing light

mouth agape
the inside of a cave

empty.
waiting

your voice calls out and claps back from the walls in a multitude of echoes

our eyes saw each other's eyes.
we are looking back at each other.

This is a series of images I captured at a limestone quarry in Malta. My grandfather was from Malta, so I hold an emotional connection to the place, having visited many times throughout my life.

For me, being on the island is always a distinct sensory experience, upon arrival I am flooded with a barrage of sensations; the dry air, the heat, the murmur of insects, this all mixed together with childhood nostalgia and memories. 

I discovered the quarry whilst researching and filming a project that I’ve been working on for several years, a filmic portrait based on the Maltese architect and writer Richard England. Limestone is an integral building block of the island and also Richard’s structures, the warm ochre fills the entirety of the island’s landscape.

My film looks into the life story of Richard and his creative output within the context of Maltese culture. As we’ve gone through this journey we’ve formed a relationship that feels reminiscent of something between grandparent and grandchild, with him being in his 80s, which in turn makes me think of my grandfather.

The text above is a conversation between myself as an adult and myself as a child, as every time I encounter this space they are in constant dialogue and inform my experience of it.

The quarry is a space that is forever evolving, as the stone is being continually carved into and excavated. For me the quarry becomes more than a site of extraction, it’s a sensory landscape, a place where the body registers the collision of deep time and human touch. Space appears to expand inward, embodying both volume and absence.

Genevieve Lutkin is an artist working in photography and moving image based in London.

Photos and Text by Genevieve Lutkin