Aletheia – the greek term for ‘Truth”, actually means the state of not being hidden; the state of being evident. The photo – which is resting on a silk cushion within a concave bowl inside the glass sculpture – is part of a series of photos that were hidden wrapped in cloth for the last eight years.
To capture what was left unsaid, I treated these self-portraits with needle, thread and other tools. Then I covered them in soft textile to let them heal.
In 2012 I created the glass sculpture ALETHEIA to bring to light what has been concealed. Glass is a material that does not hide, it actually continues to expand slowly even when it is hardened. In this condition and state, it can reveal the truth, it is able to expose and at the same time enclose, it protects and reveals. I used my own body as a point of reference for finding the right size and proportion.
At first the sculpture is entirely empty. The unconcealed content is introduced during a ritual performance: By stripping away the white silk which covers the glass sculpture I give birth to myself. Without being able to see the world, I am reciting a letter written by fantasy and addressed to reality. It is this reality in which I will immerse myself now. Flowing slowly through the room, passing the audience, transforming picture-space to picture-dream and carried by the melody of the room I return to the glass sculpture. As I arrive there I write on the wall “I know a place…”. These words are fragments of a song that was floating through the room, as I was developing the performance inside the gallery space over a couple of days. Then I give myself back to the sculpture symbolically: In the form of a healed, unconcealed photo, resting on organza silk, it moves from my arms to the cradle of the sculpture. I read the last Aletheia passage – completely awake and aware: “Life is ready to serve.”