Dascha Friedlova, Photocollage, XXVIII Fallen Leaf
Dark, somber, like funeral flowers. A cold draft about the photograph. Feels like the funerary atmosphere of the death of a loved one, the passing of a life, the memories, even as flowers that will wilt and fade soon. One can almost feel the spirit that is looking back at life being here, in the viewpoint of the image. Though it is a warm, sunny Spring day outside, and my room is sunlit, this photograph definitely has a cold feel to it, as if I were in the house or funeral home where these flowers were laid.
Dascha Friedlova, Photocollage, XXXII Equinox Egg
What is being reborn out of what is dying?
It's disturbing, the human figure looks pale, perhaps dead, and the moth the way nature makes everything sustenance for everything else.
Or perhaps it is a surrealist image in which a moth is emerging from a face. The moth looks like its growing out of tendons in the face, that the skin has been stripped.
In the strange imagery of the dream, it is a rebirth?
What is being reborn out of what is dying?
__
Note: not meant in any way to be a discussion of Friedlova's oeuvre, only some impressions I had of two of her photocollages, neither of which are particularly representational of her work as a whole.
