In the intersectional project “Секретик” (Little Secret), Belarusian artist Dasha Buben and American musician John Irvin explore themes of losing home, trauma, and memories.

Neuroscientific research indicates that while memories are abstract and illusory, they can feel intensely real when associated with trauma. Traumatic memories trigger emotions as though one is still experienc- ing the trauma. These memories are often incomplete, lacking a clear narrative, and consist of fragmented sensations such as light, sounds, or smells.

As a political immigrant, Dasha has been separated from her family since the 2020 revolution in Belarus. This prolonged absence has resulted in a profound sense of losing her roots and foundation, leading to trauma and a quest for a new identity. This separation has also evoked deep nostalgia for her home, parents, and childhood. Rooted in Dasha’s personal experience, the project draws from a childhood game she played with friends in Gomel, Belarus, called “Секретик” or “Little Secret.” In this game, participants create a small hole in the ground, often beneath a tree’s roots, to hide cherished items such as colorful leaves, wildflowers, or beads. The hole is then covered with glass and soil. Only close friends are shown the location of this “Секретик,” which is revisited daily to uncover and occasionally add new treasures. This game serves as a metaphor for longing for home. Dasha's memories of home, family, and childhood emerge as fragmented, almost traumatic echoes. These once-pure and joyful memories now evoke a sense of loss and mourning. “Секретик” is an attempt to bury those memories like childhood treasures.

The ambient soundscape by John Irvin captures the essence of a summer day at a grandparent's house—something eternally lost and irretrievable. It offers a glimpse into sounds that might or might not be real, reflecting the fragmented nature of memory and the deep sense of longing and loss. Sounds of home and earlier inspirations become fainter as one gets older, and in the search for an identity rooted in the present, it’s tempting to cling to these illusions. This nostalgia is used as an anchor to tie the artist to a past, in order to make up for a lack of foundation in a new place, amongst strangers in an unfamiliar space. In this way, the soundscape is a security blanket of memories, keeping them safe from the world outside.

Berlin 2024

Like many other artworks I’ve created, this one incorporates performative art. During the hours spent drawing to create this disappearing borders, I denied myself the act of remembering and reflecting on the past. Whenever my mind would lead me to any memories, I would stop myself and focus on the present moment. This practice, similar to meditation, serves as a meta-form of avoiding both sweet and painful memories of home, childhood, and the inability to return there.