GRAVEYARD LUNCH
2022
In Moldova, there exists a deeply symbolic and visually striking tradition known as Memorial Easter – a national holiday also referred to as the Easter of the Dead or Parent’s Day. Each year, families gather at cemeteries to commemorate their loved ones not with silence and sorrow, but with food, wine, conversation, and shared memory. It’s a day of collective remembrance that blurs the lines between mourning and celebration, life and death.
This tradition has always held personal meaning for me. My grandmother – the eldest of her siblings – has long been the anchor of our family gatherings on this day. Every year, she would reunite with relatives around her parents’ graves, serving homemade dishes, pouring wine, and invoking the past through shared stories and laughter. Her presence, captured in one of the photographs, represents a living bridge between generations.
As a child, I never saw this ritual as macabre. Instead, I felt a strange sense of comfort and connection. The cemetery, warmed by the late April sun, felt more like a village gathering than a place of mourning. I was fascinated by the people, the colours, the offerings – and the feeling that our ancestors were somehow still among us.
Last year, I returned to Saint Lazarus Cemetery – one of the largest in Europe, home to over 300,000 burials – with a desire to document this cultural ritual through my lens. However, photography during Memorial Easter is not widely accepted; many consider it a private, sacred occasion. To remain discreet and respectful, I used a compact point-and-shoot camera, allowing me to move quietly among the crowd.
This series captures not only a national tradition but a personal act of remembrance. It explores the quiet intimacy of grief transformed into celebration, and the resilience of a culture that finds joy in honoring its dead. Through these images, I aim to offer a window into a world where cemeteries are not only places of rest, but spaces of reunion, ritual, and enduring connection.
