Lena Verhoeff

With the non-existing word “refugee-dom” Lena Verhoeff and I wanted to express the state, emotional and physical, of the life of the refugee on the road. On everyday television, we see images of people walking with luggage and small children and exhausted faces. But our theme was a bit different. The phrase “lonely but not alone” came from an autobiography of former Dutch queen Wilhelmina, published in 1959, to describe her life as always surrounded by a dense crowd of people at court but still, always feeling lonely. The two qualifiers, lonely and alone, which seem to be synonymous, are here, through the conjunction “but”, rather presented as an opposition; an opposition qualifying a non-existing noun.

This film observes the choreography of a professional kitchen, where gestures, rhythms, and transformations unfold through food. The film reveals how time, care, and labour become embedded in the preparation of a dish, while exploring the boundaries between the process and product, the familiar and unfamiliar. By slowing down the act of looking, the work invites reflection on food as a bodily experience and on the ways we perceive and consume it.

With the non-existing word “refugee-dom” Lena Verhoeff and I wanted to express the state, emotional and physical, of the life of the refugee on the road. On everyday television, we see images of people walking with luggage and small children and exhausted faces. But our theme was a bit different. The phrase “lonely but not alone” came from an autobiography of former Dutch queen Wilhelmina, published in 1959, to describe her life as always surrounded by a dense crowd of people at court but still, always feeling lonely. The two qualifiers, lonely and alone, which seem to be synonymous, are here, through the conjunction “but”, rather presented as an opposition; an opposition qualifying a non-existing noun.

This film observes the choreography of a professional kitchen, where gestures, rhythms, and transformations unfold through food. The film reveals how time, care, and labour become embedded in the preparation of a dish, while exploring the boundaries between the process and product, the familiar and unfamiliar. By slowing down the act of looking, the work invites reflection on food as a bodily experience and on the ways we perceive and consume it.