Slaughterhouse elegy
On the one hand, an emotionally loaded series touching upon the everyday mass slaughter for our own good, so to say.
Also a personal storytelling of the work process per se, in reverse order, from the transposed towards the specific. The series ends with the eyes of the next in line for stunning at the time the photo was taken.
As well, an aesthetic wondering at the wandering maze of the interior body as well as question marks about our audacity.
On the other hand, a parabole, with various possible layers of meanings and interpretations.
And food for thought about Stalin’s cinical wisdom: „A single death is a tragedy. A million deaths is statistic”
Da capo al fine
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