#primeval forest

Jan Konůpek (1883–1950)

Prales (Primeval Forest), 1925-40

The Bavarian Forest shared its ancient magic with me, teaching me to love life as the kingfisher loves the crystal-clear bed of its stream. This forest, stretching along the border with the Czech Republic, is a treasure trove of biodiversity and a living testament to the resilience of nature. It is a place where human history and the rhythms of untouched wilderness converge. It reminds us of the strength and adaptability we need to face the future. We humans are like saplings shielded by towering treetops, like children grounded by the roots beneath us. The forest gives us all the strength we need every day to move forward – for the next generation, for everything that surrounds us, and for the greater whole. Beyond its ecological role, the Bavarian Forest has become a symbol of hope for a sustainable future. As a protected area, it demonstrates how old-growth forests can flourish when left to their own devices, offering a blueprint for what the forests of the future could look like if we let them heal and regenerate. For me, the Bavarian Forest has always been a sanctuary. In moments of feeling misunderstood or alone, the forest gave me support. It was my home without walls. And so it is for all of us: in the forest, we are never alone. Each of us walks our own path in life, just as our ancestors did eons ago. Yet, all of those paths intersect in the forest – the foundation of life and society, our shared past. For queer people, like myself, the forest also holds special significance. It is a refuge when other spaces fail to provide safety or acceptance. In rural areas, where safe spaces for LGBTQIA+ individuals are often scarce, the forest steps in to fill the void. Its sheltering canopy and vast, interconnected ecosystem offer a sense of belonging and identity that is often missing elsewhere. The Bavarian Forest, with its untamed beauty and boundless openness, becomes a place of empowerment – a reminder that there is space for everyone, even in the most unexpected corners of the world. The forest is identity, and the forest is society. It is our present, and it must be protected, because it is also our future. The Bavarian Forest, as one of Europe’s last great wildernesses, is a vital link between the past and the future. Its resilience in the face of challenges, from storms to bark beetle infestations, shows us how nature can recover if given time and space. These lessons are not just ecological but deeply societal: they teach us to value diversity, interconnectedness, and the strength that comes from nurturing what is often overlooked. The project has been exhibited twice so far – once at the Akademie Galerie on Nuremberg's main market square, and once in a public space in the countryside. The latter one was inspired by and staged as a homage to Félix González-Torres, highlighting that queer people, too, can find shelter in the forest. The Bavarian Forest, with its ancient roots and contemporary relevance, symbolizes resilience and inclusion – qualities that society must embrace to ensure a just and sustainable future. Through this, Fersenblut grew into something more than a project about nature. It became a reflection on the societal and cultural importance of the Bavarian Forest – a place that holds profound lessons about identity, resilience, and belonging. The forest reminds us of the need to protect not just its trees and wildlife, but the sense of connection it provides to all of us. This journey with Fersenblut is far from over. It has shown me what the Bavarian Forest means to me, and I hope it inspires others to reflect on what it means to them. I encourage you to ask yourself: What has the forest given you? What role does it play in your life? Once again, I extend my deepest gratitude to all who helped honor the Bavarian Forest and its meaning through this work. Together, let us continue to cherish and protect this magical place – for ourselves, for those who came before us, and for all who will follow.

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I stumbled upon this video on tiktok the other day where the user @/officialdoseofsaratonin talks about the last remaining rainforest in Europe - Perućica, which is located in Bosnia and Hercegovina. While Perućica truly is a wonder of nature, it is not a rainforest. And it is by far not the only one in Europe with the same status.

1) Translating the word rainforest in Slavic languages is a little problematic. Rainforest is directly translated to prašuma (old forest), so, logically, it also translates back to rainforest the other way around (ergo the mistranslation in the video). But prašuma is often times used as another way to refer to a special reservation of forest vegetation. These reservations are specific areas with rare, often endangered plants or rare plant communities which are extremely ecologically important. They are a great scientific resource which shows how an un-managed forest behaves, lives and renews itself without human influence. As I mentioned, these areas are not managed (there's no established silviculture), aren't under any direct human influence, and are generally not heavily visited (they're not generally a tourist attraction because they're often dark, unkept, lacking paths and can be dangerous because of dry or dead trees; though they're not usually under highly restricted access). Therefore, a correct translation would be primeval, primary or virgin forest.

2) Perućica is one of many primeval forests in Europe which take up a total of 300 000ha (around 0.4% of all forests in Europe). Most of these primeval forests are located in Slovakia, Bulgaria, Romania, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Hercegovina and Albania. Just in the territory of old Yugoslavia there were 20 of them, but nowadays there are even more (as new ones get discovered or certified as a primeval forest). Just on the territory of Croatia there is 18 primeval forests, many of which have the European beech (Fagus sylvatica) or the European silver fir (Abies alba) as their main plant species. So the primeval forests are rare, but there is still quite a few of them around.

Białowieża Forest  in Poland and Belarus is one of the last and largest remaining parts of the immense primeval forest that once stretched across the European Plain.