This was my home: Mauritian heritage
09/2025
Audrey Albert
Sea Walkers: A Conversation with Granper Yam and Granmer Philine (2025)
Meha Desai
Shanti in the fields at Forbach – Karo Kann (2024)
Laurent de Froberville
Cobbler – REZIDAN : MOKASSIENS (2022)
Catherine
City Lilies– Nature City (2025)
Javed Jeetoo
Still Holding - Fading Places, Living Souls (2018)
Melisa Madanamootoo
Inherited Gestures (2025)
Karen Pang - Shrine for the ancestors
The Taste of Silence is Sweet & Sour (2025)
David Rogers
Red Corner, Galaxy Shop. Mahebourg. 11 March 2022 - 9:27pm – The Other Life (2021-2024)
This was my home: Mauritian Heritage
curated by resort for Cape Town Photography Festival (2025)
Alliance Française, Loop Street, Cape Town - 4-27 September
Music contribution by Babani Records
Thank you to Meha Desai and Karen Pang, Avneesh, Heidi Erdman, Cape Town Photography Festival & Alliance Française Cape Town.
Sea Walkers: A Conversation with Granper Yam and Granmer Philine (2025)
Meha Desai
Shanti in the fields at Forbach – Karo Kann (2024)
Laurent de Froberville
Cobbler – REZIDAN : MOKASSIENS (2022)
Catherine
City Lilies– Nature City (2025)
Javed Jeetoo
Still Holding - Fading Places, Living Souls (2018)
Melisa Madanamootoo
Inherited Gestures (2025)
Karen Pang - Shrine for the ancestors
The Taste of Silence is Sweet & Sour (2025)
David Rogers
Red Corner, Galaxy Shop. Mahebourg. 11 March 2022 - 9:27pm – The Other Life (2021-2024)
This was my home: Mauritian Heritage
curated by resort for Cape Town Photography Festival (2025)
Alliance Française, Loop Street, Cape Town - 4-27 September
Music contribution by Babani Records
Thank you to Meha Desai and Karen Pang, Avneesh, Heidi Erdman, Cape Town Photography Festival & Alliance Française Cape Town.
This was my home
The heritage we hold is fragmented; on our island, our lost and silenced histories loom over us.
As we try to make sense of the loopholes in our identities we latch on to the familiar - and for as much as our island’s economic pursuits look towards a future, us inhabitants cannot get away from a sentimental longing and affection for an abstract past, tethered to nostalgia like a grafted limb we cannot get rid of.
The photographs in our exhibition do not try to define anything.
They observe. They return. They sit gently with what’s unresolved.
The works hold aspirations of an outdated simpler life, employing a kind of hauntology in their essence. Some pieces unambiguously pull toward the past, warmed by retro palettes and softened light. Others resist —working through land, labour, and lineage as ways of standing up to sentimentality. Together, they form a loose weave: not coherent, but resonant.
Some images begin before the shutter. In the texture of a hand-me-down sari. In the way someone arranges fruit, or remembers a dance without music.
Our selection grew from conversations that circled memory, repetition, and the urge to make something hold still. Images that trace inheritance through small rituals, through things that stay away from the spectacle. What someone wears on a Monday. What someone carries to work. The shape of a gesture passed between generations.
Photography here listens. It stumbles. It stays.
If there is heritage in this exhibition, it’s quiet. Not the kind etched in stone, but the kind that lives in reimagining; in the tension between what is remembered and what is no longer accessible.
This is not a statement. It’s a mood. A murmuration. A slow conversation between artists who are still figuring it out—together.
The heritage we hold is fragmented; on our island, our lost and silenced histories loom over us.
As we try to make sense of the loopholes in our identities we latch on to the familiar - and for as much as our island’s economic pursuits look towards a future, us inhabitants cannot get away from a sentimental longing and affection for an abstract past, tethered to nostalgia like a grafted limb we cannot get rid of.
The photographs in our exhibition do not try to define anything.
They observe. They return. They sit gently with what’s unresolved.
The works hold aspirations of an outdated simpler life, employing a kind of hauntology in their essence. Some pieces unambiguously pull toward the past, warmed by retro palettes and softened light. Others resist —working through land, labour, and lineage as ways of standing up to sentimentality. Together, they form a loose weave: not coherent, but resonant.
Some images begin before the shutter. In the texture of a hand-me-down sari. In the way someone arranges fruit, or remembers a dance without music.
Our selection grew from conversations that circled memory, repetition, and the urge to make something hold still. Images that trace inheritance through small rituals, through things that stay away from the spectacle. What someone wears on a Monday. What someone carries to work. The shape of a gesture passed between generations.
Photography here listens. It stumbles. It stays.
If there is heritage in this exhibition, it’s quiet. Not the kind etched in stone, but the kind that lives in reimagining; in the tension between what is remembered and what is no longer accessible.
This is not a statement. It’s a mood. A murmuration. A slow conversation between artists who are still figuring it out—together.