THE SPECIAL WORLD OF NATHALIA EDENMONT

Per Hüttner is a Swedish artist who lives and works in Paris, France, he made a wonderful analysis of the art of Nathalia . The text was written in Paris, Bucharest and Stockholm. I think it’s really worth off to share ‘an extract’ of his impressions with you.

 

<Death is the ‘red line’ in the art of the Swedish-Russian photographer Nathalia Edenmont: not a representation of death, but death itself. Practically all her art is made up of carcasses that either look frighteningly alive and/or are breathtakingly beautiful.

She started her career by making a series of images that might be inappropriately called “portraits” of rabbits. They aren’t cute or pitiful or hard-to-look-at portraits, though. Instead, each animal looks human, almost royal and full of self-assuredness and pride. Their titles – Charles, Tamara and Richard – further underline their human qualities. In order to make these images she decapitated rabbits, gave them elaborate and baroque-looking collars and then stuck their heads in expensive designer vases.

In her new work we are faced with images that in many ways are even more violent and more beautiful than the rabbits. At first glance, Snakes and Insects appear to be formalist, modernist paintings – Nathalia’s own version of Swedish renegade Constructivists (say, Lennart Rohde) or pretty much any of the American abstract expressionists. But a third image, Tomb, proves that nothing could be further from the truth. What we are seeing is in fact a solid wall of death. Each picture is made up of hundreds of butterfly wings, but, because the images are aesthetically pleasing and made of insects, they appear far less threatening than those made with mammals. This is also where Nathalia Edenmont’s work gains its power. It forces us to face some of the most difficult questions that have haunted humanity since it gained consciousness: how do we relate to the inherent violence of nature? How do we respond to the idea of kill or be killed? On what grounds do we have the right to domesticate milk and kill the animals that share the planet with us so that we can eat and clothe ourselves?

 

Each known religion and culture offers a set of answers to these questions. Even children know that Muslims and Jews do not eat pork and that traditionally Hindus are vegetarians and see cows as holy animals. It is these rules and values that constitute the very foundation for culture and cultural difference. “You are what you eat” is not only a slogan aimed at making you think about your diet, but it could also be one for your cultural identity. What you put on your plate is as significant as to which gods you pray.

 

What makes the work even more uncomfortable is that there are no answers to the moral questions posed by killing and eating animals. Meat-eating, leather-wearing people can only really justify their actions by saying that it is “natural.” By doing so we accept that humans and nature alike are violent and ruthless in their very essence and that humans somehow stand above their fellow species due to their consciousness.

 

Looking at Nathalia's work we are faced with these unanswered and unanswerable questions. This can be a very frustrating and violent experience; it can force us to feel our own powerlessness in the world, which, of course, is both painful and demeaning. In the light of this it is hardly surprising that many visitors react violently towards the work, but could this violence only be a revolt against the visitor’s inability to be introspective? Could the many moralizing outbursts in front of the work be a misdirected anger at being reminded of questions that society has long swept under the carpet to retain its calm and order?

 

THE EXHIBITION

 

It is not, though, only death's presence in the photographs that makes the images uncomfortable. Let us look at some of the recurring motifs in Edenmont’s images: the flower, the bride, the egg yoke, the snake, the rabbit, and the girl who has lost her innocence. Everything leads us back to sex in these pictures and the flowers offer a key how to decipher this obsessive repetition.

 

The flower is stripped down to its most basic function in Edenmont's photographs. It is the reproductive organ of the plant. In Dragon and Pink Family we see eyes centrally placed in the vagina-like openings of the petals. In Mask it is even more obvious as the eyes peer out of the folds of an orchid’s red and flesh-like blooming beauty. The artist spells it out: our eyes are blind; we see reality with our genitalia. This message can only be conveyed through art – which isn’t a particularly light and positive outlook on life. But it gets even darker when we look at Nathalia’s two self-portraits. They depict a solitary, wilting stalk, with a lonely, broken butterfly wing replacing a withering autumn leaf. We can deduce that love is no saviour in Edenmont’s world. In fact, it is not even a possibility; only loneliness exists.

 

The gloom continues. In Darling a bride has been abandoned by her groom or has perhaps jilted him. The woman stands alone in the landscape of almost monochrome, white innocence; the husband then returns in the form of a giant snake that has been hiding under the wedding cake. He is poised and ready for the kill.

In Edenmont’s world sex is the opposite of a romantic and generous eroticism based on love, dialogue and exchange. We are faced with cold coitus as brutal marketplace, in which sex is exchanged for protection and economic stability.

 

Beauty is fake and has no value of its own in Nathalia’s world. It is created by make-up and expensive clothes. Everything is two-dimensional, an empty facade that, like everything else, is a lie. Good looks have become a currency to get what you want. The camera is the ultimate tool to freeze the fleeting moment of beauty before death, decay and decomposition sets in. We are faced with a reality where everything has a price and whose only interest is in amassing as much wealth as possible. At least that way people can be comfortable in their ugliness. It is a world in which cynicism rules supreme, love is dead and only death awaits you, in which men and women can only engage in war against one another and dialogue is impossible.

 

Where does all this cynicism lead? Why bother to paint the world black through elaborate art when you could paint it red by slitting your throat? Yet, behind the appearance of cynicism, there is a message of hope in Edenmont’s art. It offers a key for us to look at our own double standards, and through that understand each other and the world around us – how and why we are weak and why we lie. As contradictory as it might sound the images speak of a world where communication is impossible, but at the same time they force us to start a dialogue with people around us in order to understand what we see. Or at least try to come to terms with why we are upset or provoked. It is as if Nathalia Edenmont sees in art a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe, despite the war zone that is her life, it is through images and through the acceptance of pain that some sort of inter-human dialogue is made possible. In her work beauty plays a role that is free from lies and deceit. It is the vehicle in which a possible dialogue travels. Art is not a saviour from hypocrisy and lies, but it offers a slither of hope that behind the filth of sexual services and economic greed we will be able to talk to one another in honesty and to discuss the painful changes that make up our lives. But in order to do so we have to overcome our fears. Through her art Nathalia Edenmont invites us to be as fearless and courageous as she is. But to join her we have to pass the acid test of her deeply cynical worldview. The choice is yours: are you willing to sacrifice all hope to gain a more truthful dialogue and so see beyond the lies?>

 

 

NATHALIA EDENMONT

Guy Pieters Gallery, Kustlaan 279

8300 KNOKKE (Belgium)

When?

March 10th  till April 2nd 2007

Everyday from 11 am till 6 pm

closed on Tuesday and Wednesday

catalogue: € 25

info: +32 9 282 82 84 - +32 50 612 800

or info@guypietersgallery.com

 

 

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