Don't Do To Her What You Did To Me

One sees a close-up shot of a glass being filled with water. Bubbles are formed but slowly the water regains its still quality. The glass then acts as a deformative device between the viewer and the artist, as a hand is writing don't do to her what you did to me on the back of the photographs. Everything is still again for a short while until, slowly and majestically, a flush of black ink flows downwards, staining the water... The ink preludes the more dramatic fate of the repeated haunting images, the deceased woman. One hears a metallic sound as the photographs move in a more frenetic spin. One is aware of the glass again, of the limited space where a struggle takes place between a probable spoon and the photographs which dematerialise under one's eyes. The sheer immediacy of the destruction process is intensified as the image dissolves into an organic paste. Then, a woman, the artist, drinks the solution, the last ironic phase of the talisman. -S.Z