| You make north. To encounter the unknown, you must wade through the Artic Sea, toward the lighthouse. The fantastical can be found all around us. Fiction blends into our lives. The unreal is factual. My work is masquerade of recognizable places, people, and gestures. I photograph strangers, who invoke my desire. As an outsider, you want to be similar and in contact—you want to find a twin, and I do feel that we can become multiples. People are unpredictable, male and female at the same time. The water present in my photographs is the most remarkable. It carries bodies—water is color. My main characters are testing the ways to exist. Air becomes a watercourse. Is there a light, a way? You cannot see their faces because it’s your face. | 
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Susanna Majuri
Susanna Majuri, Salme, 2007. C-print on aluminium, 80 x 120 cm, edition of 5 + 2AP. Courtesy of Galerie Adler, Frankfurt and Gallery TaiK, Helsinki.You make north. To encounter the unknown, you must wade through the Artic Sea, toward the lighthouse. The fantastical can be found all around us. Fiction blends into our lives. The unreal is factual. My work is masquerade of recognizable places, people, and gestures. I photograph strangers, who invoke my desire. As an outsider, you want to be similar and in contact—you want to find a twin, and I do feel that we can become multiples. People are unpredictable, male and female at the same time.
The water present in my photographs is the most remarkable. It carries bodies—water is color. My main characters are testing the ways to exist. Air becomes a watercourse. Is there a light, a way? You cannot see their faces because it’s your face. Wind makes you disappear. In each image I’m seeking sexuality, the central figure wants to know her body.
Logic of colors visualizes the fiction. Inner world builds secrets to be seen. My heart beats wildly when I can feel the presence of surprises. It’s in me, the color of turquoise. Imagine the details a bit further. Secret tattoo, blue one is the colour of veins, the rivers on the map. Or a blue shadow of a plant, starting to own here. Non-living things are in a role of the living. A picture of sorrow is a picture of hope. She is living. Do you see; she starts to move and breathe.
I want to narrate feelings like in novels. The reader of images gets a chance to handle her loss and encounters. There is a place for danger. You lose your breath and your weight into the water to come back again. When you’re in love, but bid farewell to the channel. You forgot the ship and it sinks.
