Miroir, Miroir

Miroir, Miroir is short and sweet. A pointed work that digs deep into our definition of beauty and comes up laughing. We see the artist seated at a cosmetic littered vanity, reflected in several mirrors. She gradually applies make-up, growing more alluring with each line until she begins to use broad almost violent strokes, blackening her eyes and drawing a huge red ridiculous mouth. She looks as if she is mimicking a young child at mother’s dressing table except her movements betray a knowing exasperation. Finally, in a what seems a bitter capitulation, she rubs it all together, her expression stone then mocking. A carnivalesque soundtrack fades in at this point in the piece adding to the vaudevillian air. So, it is a bit of a sinister laugh, as the beautiful artist stares through a clown-like mask, face a smear of red and black, into a mirror and our culpability; her ridicule deftly reflecting our own.