Student Entry - Emerging Talent Awards

They left clothes strewn around, unmade beds, open books, the TV turned on, as if they were about to come back soon. They left their rooms unprepared for emptiness. Every year, the Polish police file 15,000 missing person reports. Every day, the faces of missing people gaze out from posters designed to attract our attention; yet, every passing day, they are noticed less. We become as immune to these posters, as we do to their faces. Only those who have lost someone in these circumstances can begin to imagine the pain these families are going through. Their feelings teeter between loss and hope. Often the rooms of the missing lost ones are left untouched, for several months, years, and even decades. I traveled 7,200 km throughout the country to visit their homes. During each visit, I photographed the rooms of the missing with the permission of their families. These intimate portraits of frozen lives, time standing still, reflect a memory: an armchair in the corner with carefully folded rugs, a room with a clock collection, or an animal print throw immaculately arranged on a sofa; these are the tangible marks and evidence of existence. Somebody lived in these places; somebody was there, sitting at the table, sleeping on the sofa, living. The final project combines 15 rooms, 15 portraits and 15 letters written by the family members to each missing person. This project seeks to reinvigorate the efforts to find the missing, and to create awareness of the immense pain caused by the loss of a loved one, who one day went missing—by highlighting the plight of those who are missed and those who miss them.