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Constance believes the air around her to be rarefied. Her odors, a pleasure for others. Her perfumes, an an announcement. Her powders, a monologue. Her cigarette smoke, an immediate impression. So what if others were angered by her bold scented actions. Even if you did not see or hear Constance, you knew she was there. And when she left, she lingered like an afterthought. People would remember her.
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Glad to hear it!
Thank you very much for the very perceptive review. You are dead on!
Curator’s Comments:
These new pieces including Constance don’t disappoint with their intense undulating organic shapes and saturated colors that are hallmarks within your previous series. The cool blue eyes of the main subject eerily direct the compositional movement in the piece through to the other theatrical characters. The contrasts of values and hue within the small shapes that make up their faces suggest carnival masks, or similar facial distortion. But I do find the mood of the overall exchange to be slightly sinister- perhaps because of alarm in the adjacent faces and the curling smoke in the top of the picture. Constance’s spidery fingers and nails are vaguely predatory, though this is in keeping with similar abstraction within the piece. The literary text accompanying her adds another sensory element to the visual overload of ecstatically obsessive pattern and contrast.
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