Peels

This work draws on the story of my grandmother, who worked on a German farm during the war. She survived by stealing potato peelings out of the animals. After the war, she applied for compensation, but her claim was rejected. In an act of despair, she destroyed all the documents, reluctant to revisit the past. I wish to acknowledge and honour the injustices my grandmother suffered.

Peelings are scraps that we quickly remove from view. I capture this moment. I am interested in boundaries, points of contact. One side of the peel, which was in contact with the outside world is matt, rough, with fragments of earth. The other, which was in contact with the flesh of the potato tuber – moist, delicate, sensitive. I am moved by this sight. I see my origins in these peelings. This is where my knowledge of my family’s history begins, passed down to me directly by my grandmother.

The fabric has been dyed with pigment extracted from potatoes: flowers, stems, leaves, tubers, sprouts, roots and soil. The pattern resembles the moro. During the Second World War, the Polish army improvised camouflage using vegetation and natural dyes. Partisans were creative in adapting their clothing to the terrain. Decoctions made from plants served as survival tools.