The Elusive Symbolism of Dreams & Death—Julius Töyrylä
Listen above, on Spotify or Apple Podcasts. Transcript: I’m Alexa Ashley and this is Eyes Wide. In this episode we hear from artist and photographer Julius Töyrylä, who has been recording his dreams since he can remember. In 2018, he woke up from a particularly meaningful dream, remembering two words he didn’t understand. He inquired with linguistic professor Michelle Black and learned that the words were from an Indigenous language spoken in the Andes region, and also in his birthplace of Colombia, from where he was adopted to Finland. The language is called Quechua. When he was five years old he was told by his Finnish parents about a birth sister who passed away before he was born. The incident left him with an eerie feeling about someone, somewhere, invisible. In his latest photography project Black Book, Julius reshapes and analyzes his dreams with the medium of photography. His photos often contain a woman figure, usually without a face, and objects from nature depicted in a twisted and surreal kind of way. After viewing his exhibition at Taller Sangfer in Oaxaca City, Mexico, I sat down with Julius to explore the elusive symbolism of dreams and death. Alexa Ashley: To start, tell me a little bit about growing up as you. Julius Töyrylä: Oh, that’s a good question. We’re going hard from the beginning I guess. Damn. I was really lonely because I was an only child. And you were in the exhibition and saw some of the works there. So there was the picture of the woman sitting and she has the light in front of her face. There’s a story behind it, close to my life also. Do you want to hear it? Alexa: Please. Julius: Do you want the short version or the longer version? Alexa: Whatever you’re willing to give me, Dear. Julius: I want to give you the longer one. Ok, let’s go. Before I was in our family of now three people, I had a sister. But she unfortunately passed away after birth. Alexa: I’m sorry. Julius: Yeah, I know. And then I was adopted from Colombia to a Finnish family. And they told me a story when I was like five years old or something like that. But I’ve always had this strange feeling that there should be someone there, and there’s nobody. But also a feeling of like something similar, like the feeling that you have a sister but you don’t. Hard thing to explain; but anyway. A few years back from here, we were on vacation, my family. In Spain. And I was just looking at the sea. And then, this strange dreamlike feeling came over me for some reason, and it started to get dark. It was like a perfect moment in a way. And then I looked at the sea and I looked at how it waved, back and forth, and I got this feeling that now is the time to remember her. Her name is Paula. And I was like, “Hm, what can I do now to really remember her?” Not just a memory but something else in a way. And I didn’t have my camera with me, so I was like, “Maybe I do an act or something.” So, then I decided, as it got dark, I saw the stars. I thought, “Let’s be romantic.” And I looked at the sky and I was like, “I’ll go under the brightest star and I’ll get something from the ground.” Memorabilia or an amulet or something from that moment, because it was so strong. Then I started to walk, like five kilometers away. Then I got to the spot, I was looking up and was like “This is it.” It was like a beach, a rocky beach. And so I put my hand down and got something from the ground. It was like a little stone. But what is strange to me at least is that the stone was a little heart-shaped. I’m not making this up! It felt like it had a lot of emotion. It wa
