Rena Effendi 

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Portfolios:  L I Q U I D L A N D | P U B L I C A T I O N S | chapter I. Contract of the Century | chapter II. Boom City | chapter III. Faces of War | chapter IV. Cultures along the pipeline | chapter V. The Human Cost | Last Dance of Tarlabasi | Chernobyl: Women of the Zona | Full Circle: Transgender in Istanbul | Xinaliq Village | Georgia Conflict | Twenty-something in Tehran | House of Happiness | Russia: Mining Town. Therapy Farm | Cairo Neighborhoods | Afghanistan

L I Q U I D L A N D

  • Liquid Land is a collective portrait of communities
living dangerously among the oil spills and industrial
ruin of the Absheron peninsula. Pushed to the edges of
city and society, they inhabit makeshift homes, oilfields
and abandoned factories; their numbers grow, with new
children born daily. Many are refugees of war - rural
populations that lost everything and fled to the city to be
safe and to find work. Living in these inhuman conditions
for two decades now, they no longer have their village
expanse but still breed livestock among the metal waste of
factories and hang their laundry on oilrigs. The air they
breathe, the water they drink, the playgrounds for their
children are all contaminated and hostile. Yet life goes on
in this dodgy urban concoction - people decorate their
crumbling homes with peacock feathers; a boy plays his
drum on a heap of construction waste; an elderly couple
plants potatoes in an oilfield; a woman waits to deliver her
child in her cardboard home. Land is liquid underneath
these people’s homes - their present survival tenuous, their
children’s future uncertain.

    Liquid Land is a collective portrait of communities living dangerously among the oil spills and industrial ruin of the Absheron peninsula. Pushed to the edges of city and society, they inhabit makeshift homes, oilfields and abandoned factories; their numbers grow, with new children born daily. Many are refugees of war - rural populations that lost everything and fled to the city to be safe and to find work. Living in these inhuman conditions for two decades now, they no longer have their village expanse but still breed livestock among the metal waste of factories and hang their laundry on oilrigs. The air they breathe, the water they drink, the playgrounds for their children are all contaminated and hostile. Yet life goes on in this dodgy urban concoction - people decorate their crumbling homes with peacock feathers; a boy plays his drum on a heap of construction waste; an elderly couple plants potatoes in an oilfield; a woman waits to deliver her child in her cardboard home. Land is liquid underneath these people’s homes - their present survival tenuous, their children’s future uncertain.



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