Two hundred and eleven

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt

2010 by Linda Hemmersbach
Central Saint Martins MA Show;

Linda Hemmersbach’s works are a curious array of shadowy canvases; simple but effective, these are dark windows into a remarkable imagination. Her sketches, like with so many artists, are the most clearly revealing. There are heads riddled with lines, drawn out like pain or trains of thought. These are conjured images, possessing all the magic of pictures that are as unreal as they are provoking. With no clear origin, these images have the true power of dark imagination. O, that this too too solid flesh would melt is perhaps the epitome of this — a figure lost in black. So swamped is she with darkness that her body melts into it; ribbons of ink wrap about her, suffocating but somehow euphorically releasing. Her head tilts back in some terrible ecstasy; her face pulled, literally draining the expression from the colours of her flesh. Her pallor, a yellow milkiness, reeks of connotations of death and sickness; particularly ominous as dense black is unforgivingly stamped behind her. The colours that should betray life’s blood within her face fall like rivers from her throat. Fleshy purples hang like necklaces around her neck, while pinks and pure white cascade from her back around the suggested arm. Her body is melting physically as well as through dilution of colour. Only traces of shape and features are left in Hemmersbach’s watery articulations; her treatment of paint wonderfully contrasting to the thick tar-like background that renders all invisible, all but this drained figure.


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Filed under Twenty First-Century

One response to “Two hundred and eleven

  1. Pingback: A postcard of o… « Collector of Echoes

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