My name is Jan van Helden (1993), and I am born-and-raised in Amsterdam. For me, beauty and meaning emerge in fleeting, unpredictable moments and the quiet details of everyday life: the way light falls, a memory that lingers, a chance encounter, a longing, a dream, or a seemingly insignificant word.

Érin. A portrait

Érin is a small village in the North of France where, twenty-five years ago, my parents, younger sister, and myself found our second home. A small, abandoned farmhouse, hidden in the tall grass. On a grey February day in 2001, we stepped into the garden, when the sun broke through the gloom. It became a world full of with dear memories, but at the same time a place that remained reserved and cautious. The scenery of my upbringing, within a family where little was said. We constantly moved between two places, remaining passers-by in the village — and, in the silence, becoming stranger to one another as well. Érin is a mosaic, a portrait of a small world. It is an attempt to find something to hold on to in a life that is fragile and momentary. My journey became a new encounter. I circle and circle along the houses, paths, cracks and faces. I wander through the days, searching for a place we call home.

Here, somewhere is our home.