Human skin is the new kid on the block of abstract expressionism thanks to the foresight of dermatologist Stefanie Williams. She's long been an admirer of the visually stimulating results of skin cells at microscopic level and now offers a service from her practice at European Dermatology London which allows clients to commission a large scale photograph detailing the microscopic anatomy of their cells and tissues. The strange rivers, fractals and labyrinths of what she calls 'inner portraits' are an intriguing and affordable representation of the self that walks the strange line between abstract and uber-realist - an image that is so literally you that it's unrecognisable.
The most remarkable thing about the complexity and eventfulness of our skin under the microscope is how easy it is to mistake the finished photographic product for an image of outer space or an aerial photograph of a land mass or volcano through a thermal camera. For me there was such an immediate sense of scale and infinity until I realised I was looking at skin particles and it was in my reassessment of the images that I realised inner portraiture asks you to reappraise your expectations and beliefs about your own body.
Art has always been in love with the skin. As it's the only visible organ and the one that most notably and constantly links science, society and the individual, its reinvention in all kinds of media has been an evolution, and now the skin itself takes the helm as artist in its own right with drastically different results. The sense of enigma and possibility that arises from seeing the strange galaxies of planets and voids of blackness that make up our skin offers a fresh perspective that presses for answers to bigger questions than ordinary portraiture can lead us to.
I've found myself wondering if I'd like to buy one of these intriguing immortalisations of my own inner workings. Whether or not I could relate the image to any sense of myself remains to be seen but I could stand to be a little more impressed and in awe and a little less jaded and apathetic about our capabilities and the miniscule universes within. If much about modern art leaves people cold, which so often seems to be the war cry, this is the type of stuff that could invite contemplation of a worthwhile kind.
The most remarkable thing about the complexity and eventfulness of our skin under the microscope is how easy it is to mistake the finished photographic product for an image of outer space or an aerial photograph of a land mass or volcano through a thermal camera. For me there was such an immediate sense of scale and infinity until I realised I was looking at skin particles and it was in my reassessment of the images that I realised inner portraiture asks you to reappraise your expectations and beliefs about your own body.
Art has always been in love with the skin. As it's the only visible organ and the one that most notably and constantly links science, society and the individual, its reinvention in all kinds of media has been an evolution, and now the skin itself takes the helm as artist in its own right with drastically different results. The sense of enigma and possibility that arises from seeing the strange galaxies of planets and voids of blackness that make up our skin offers a fresh perspective that presses for answers to bigger questions than ordinary portraiture can lead us to.
I've found myself wondering if I'd like to buy one of these intriguing immortalisations of my own inner workings. Whether or not I could relate the image to any sense of myself remains to be seen but I could stand to be a little more impressed and in awe and a little less jaded and apathetic about our capabilities and the miniscule universes within. If much about modern art leaves people cold, which so often seems to be the war cry, this is the type of stuff that could invite contemplation of a worthwhile kind.
No comments:
Post a Comment