The sculptor and her statues
A firm and resolute woman, proud and full of self-confident, assiduous and hardworking with eyes damp with a sentiment on the verge of overflowing, a restless rebellious sentiment, yet restrained and guided in the right direction, that is turned into statutes which we see. With eyes damp with ardor, in love with work, in love with humanity, in love with positive elements…
Statutes in wood, in stone, in bronze, fiberglass, chemical substances…
It is not important what they are made of; the important thing is what they suggest to the audience and how they influence them.
They impress you and the impression remains with you for days. And this is what is important. Chubby pigeons; heartbroken pigeons with heads drawn into their wings; robust women unbothered by what is and what is not, liberated from any should and should not, unfettered, free.
A group of tall straight affirming women, yet if you look at them carefully, you would sense their anxiety and apprehension, their perplexity and confusion, their angst! Couples, facing each other, isolated, casting sharp direct look at each other. Couples intertwined, impossible to separate, impossible to see them apart. So interlaced that even their creator-sculptor can no longer do anything about it, or may be she doesn’t wish to do anything anyway.
Glossy sturdy angels with hatched wings, with halved wings, with wings no longer of any use. A wooden owl with red eyes, a one-eyed owl… and her lines of amorous bronze walls.
Indeed she is a sculptor in the true sense of the word. A sculptor who knows very well what she is doing which is what a lofty art requires.