What Dams Kept Safe
Crossing the dam from Domburg to eastern Zoutelande, you arrive at a cluster of red roofs called Westkapelle. It was perhaps this touch of Southern warmth that first drew me in - and the close-knit community that made me stay, camera in hand.
As I photographed and reflected, a quiet unease began to surface in my images - something I couldn’t quite define. Despite the warmth and openness with which I was received, my work revealed a tension between the comfort I felt and the unsettling story that seemed to linger beneath the surface.
Only later did I learn what lay beneath the calm: a story of silence, and the harm it concealed.
Abuse had taken place here . The weight of that silence reshaped everything I thought I understood
As I photographed and reflected, a quiet unease began to surface in my images - something I couldn’t quite define. Despite the warmth and openness with which I was received, my work revealed a tension between the comfort I felt and the unsettling story that seemed to linger beneath the surface.
Only later did I learn what lay beneath the calm: a story of silence, and the harm it concealed.
Abuse had taken place here . The weight of that silence reshaped everything I thought I understood