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After a torrential downpour a sudden flood can occur anywhere. Once meaningful terms like home, faith or ethics are losing ground, they overflow international barrels of gunpowder and lose their deeper profundity. In this sea of unspeakable, Marko Zink's paper dragon is floating, beautiful to look at, dazzling in azure. The lucky charm, most likely from Shenzhen or Chittagong, misleads us with its colourful appearance, as familiarity always encounters us in the form of irritation in strange, swimmers and burka. Under the water surface, where the accustomed is transitioned into the scary, the photographer maroons an Asian wormhole. The cheap, poor copy of a former traditional craftsmanship is catapulted in quick-tempered waters, in which suddenly small dragons' teeth bite through south pacific trade lanes in an hegemonic competition. Over here a Japanese silk umbrella is prancing in front of an obscure background, while a pair of Adidas trousers are quickly grazing their meadows. Surrounded by a radiant aesthetic one easily oversees that above us, the air keeps getting thinner. Zink's sea writes a consistent demarcation, staking out its territory, in which waves are light and dark, and tentacles of octopuses and empty shells are all witnesses of an approaching breakwater. Sparkling air bubbles, aleatoric explosion of forms. The sea, which is ever the same at the same time and simultaneously never repeating. It tears, pushes, presses against the objects, flows in a play of features until something barely graspable remains, a camouflage or persiflage. Here, two weary tents stem against the storm, a far-travelled suitcase lies apathetically on the ground, behind it a dress of sorrow in a state of shock, over there an opulently draped pearl necklace, which steals itself quickly away and out of the scenery. The drowned objects seem beleaguered, disorient, isolated. Marko Zink refers in his underwater series to the crisis-laden experiences of societies in transformation, sometimes by using a delicate sensitiveness, sometimes by an again very striking symbolism. It is a transformation, which unsettles us, as nothing is reliable anymore, because not continuity but its cracks catch our eyes. He assembles individual images to a big narrative, which always wants to be seen as highly topical and, therefore, political. It is a point of view, which he shares with many other professional photographers, but he does not chase after dramatic shots and stereotypes. With burka (2010), Zink positioned himself already apart that yet widespread "refugee porn". He leads the gaze away from individuals' fates to a universal narration. Although the majority of his work resembles an ethnographical staging, he acquires an element of wistful poetry in a threatening tale. The consonance of melancholy and poetry is not only achieved through colourful artefacts, floating around lonely, either carefully arranged in the sand or instead haphazardly tossed into the water, but also through Marko Zink's underwater scenery and his photographic method. Water, the element of longing and angst, the calm sea surface, the stormy sea, a mystical surface for our own projections, an impregnable force of nature. Diving into it is always accompanied by an archaic picture of drowning, but also of rebirth. Image sections and purposely used blurriness, guide the gaze into a world, which is Atlantis, Nowhere Land and interspace at the same time. By doing so this world opens itself up to different imaginations. Especially scenes like those deepen into broader topics, in which objects seem that much out of place and diffusely do not embody any shortcuts or an idea or a concrete moment. Also, Marko Zink personally and constantly explores new readability, as current events always ask for a repetitive penetration of the (water) surface. Marko Zink uses the power of interpretation of symbols; he interweaves appearance and being, and intrigues the viewer with wit and beautiful colours, while diving into the opacity of everyday life, the polymorph and steering into enlightenment. Those, who untangle these irritations, no longer just see any tale but the fateful history of mankind. The feeling that arouses in the spectator when he grabs this moment is a deep experience, the sounds of a connecting identity-feeling, dropping the saving anchor.

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