Play (in the city) (2006)
How do cities play with their inhabitants?
How do two strangers interact when they meet?
How do objects invite people to play?
How do adults play?
The end result was Nessy, a mythological lighting for the urban landscape. It includes a head and tail light, and space for sitting, parking bikes or even free running.
The Barbie Project (2003-04)
A two year development on the issue of self-esteem and image. What are we ready to inflict on ourselves to fit the mould of stereotypical perfection? Who is imposing this canon? How does changing oneself affect others?
The show included 32 “Barbie boxes” with portraits of real women, surrounded by their favourite objects (questioning Barbie’s personality, as described by objects included in its box); a dress made out of measuring tapes; a table with a cake and a mirror confronting the seater (all visitants were invited to have some as far as they could look at themselves eat and let others watch).
(images from the IB final solo degree show at WK UWC of SA)
wooden pencil portraits
Nosideup was:
and
You could find hair portraits there.
Each had its story:
Geisha’s Thoughts
As soon as the festival’s over, and the wig’s gone, I’ll have a quiet bath. And after that I’ll finish that book that seems to have the same paragraph on repeat just because I don’t know where my head is anymore. And then, then… I’ll fall asleep. Oh yes. Properly, deeply asleep. And I won’t even turn the alarm clock on.
Stella
She just had this feeling. It was more than a feeling, it was a sense of certainty. She knew today was going to be one of the best days of her life. She could smell the spring, the sun felt insistent from the other side of the window. She looked around her once more, before stepping outside. Swelling with happiness, she played Rodrigo and Gabriela louder on the iPod. She was almost bouncing down the street. Whatever was about to happen, she didn’t know. But she knew it was good. She loved the world, and the world loved her.
Bridgett
Bridgett was not even aware that she had not moved a teeny tiny bit for about a minute. Therefore, she could not realize of how strange that was. You see, she was the kind of person that taps one foot when sitting, plays with her cofee spoon or curls a strand of hair on her index finger as she speaks. She had been told she kept on masticating in her sleep, even. So, that total stillness was very, very rare in her. After a while, she just hugged her handbag and decided to keep moving. She suspiciously felt this feeling of lightness and shortness of breath, that, despite all, was not unpleasant at all. She had not been quite aware of what had just happened, she just knew that the intensity of that very light pink on the sky of a Mucha painting was one of the most beautiful things she had ever witnessed.
Nicola
A nice-looking girl more or less her age had walked up to her very excitedly to compliment her on her coat. That girl had been so thrilled by her style, she even petted the garment and held her arm, like an old friend. She felt quite chuffed, said thank you, told her about this great second hand shop in LA and kept walking. Nicola told to herself, “it was SO worth it”, dismissing her sister’s comments about the price of the coat. She grabbed her wine-colored handbag powerfully and strutted with a spring in her heeled step. She got to the office, sat down and collected a few more compliments throughout the morning. At lunch time, she dipped her hand into the glossy handbag and felt her blood stopping in her veins. Her wallet. Her precious wallet. Her very many credit cards in it. All gone.
Liza
They were heading to Lee Ann’s party. Or was it Ann Lee? Anyway, she was meant to be superfamous. His girfriend was walking slightly in front of him, and the sound of her heels was clicking away. She was taller than him, in those heels. He was starting to feel awkward about all this modelling business. His gifted viola player girlfriend had been spotted at a festival (who knew these things really happen?!), and the girl he had known all this time started disappearing behind fancy clothes and cameras and makeup. He kept on watching the catwalks, wondering if people really saw her for who she was, not wanting to answer his own questions. After the shows he couldn’t wait for the makeup to be removed so that his girl could emerge. But tonight the hair was left on (It is so nice, isn’t it?), the heels were sharp and she had been humming to herself all the way. He got a shiver down his spine when she turned around and smiled at him. It was the same exact smile she had on those CK jeans ad she had just shot.
Paloma
Paloma just looked around her and flashed a massive smile to no-one in particular. The room was empty, and it was quite late. But her first show was up. It was her photos that were up everywhere on the wall. She knew every little detail on them and, yet, they felt a bit foreign now, looking all ready to be exhibited. She realized she was almost biting a nail and stopped herself. She really wanted to look as professional as she could the next day. She heard the gallery owner entering behind her, with a glass of water. We are saving the champagne for tomorrow. She smiled again and took a sip of the water, quite chilly. Besides her, a big stack of catalogs was lined up against a wall.
Chelsea
Chelsea had just walked in her regular charity shop. She just loved the mix-and-match effect of all those hopeful things thrown together, the ghosts of their stories floating on the air. She went straight for the bookshelf (a girl can’t possibly have too many books). She couldn’t believe her luck: a Post-secret book! She opened it without thinking, and there it was. A small, checkered piece of paper with a message scribbled in blue pen: “To the girl with the yellow coat, you make my day everyday on your way to work”. Her heart skipped one, two, three beats. She looked around, anyone of the people in the shop could have written that. Was the note in the book before it was donated? Was the book an old possession of the girl in the yellow coat? She cautiously left the book back in its place, not to break the possible magic. She took an old Virginia Woolf instead and carried it to the cashier. The guy behind the desk (a University student, surely) smiled at her, commented on the nice weather and sent her off. Just outside she bumped against a young girl, not much older than herself. And no, she was wearing no coat. But her shoes were yellow. And her earrings. With all the butterflies rushing in her stomach, she followed her hunch and looked throught the shop window: the cashier was blissfully ignoring a lady, smiling and looking out.
Le Chignon
Stu had been practicing for his hairdressing course. He almost got it right. She, on the other hand, was growing a bit tired of the long hours of combing and back combing. Specially because Stu still hadn’t realized why she kept on offering her hair, her help. And because Stu still had that tall girlfriend with the fake blond super short do.
Buns and combs
he spent hours looking at her neck in biology…
but he never dared to touch those loose hairs…
Rebecca
“Effortless glamour” promised the YouTube instructional video. “Easy” and “foolproof” where somewhere along the description, too. She carefully followed each step, trying to put her hands like the lady on the screen. Alas, the lady’s hands were nimble and quick, her hair much better behaved.
When she saw herself with her latest vintage find (a dark velvet coat), with her favorite scarf (Etsy, of course) and the new hairdo all she could think was: “I look like my aunt in a Sunday morning. I’m only missing the newspaper or the pancake mixture”. But she then glanced at the watch and had no option but breath in and leave the flat, with her “effortless glamour”-do feeling loose as she walked.
Jo
Jo liked being rained on when she was bathing in the sea, and she liked apples in autumn, with cinnamon.
Jo didn’t like detergent ads in TV and and people who paused for laughter after a funny remark.
Jo enjoyed staying at home on the first day of sales, and drying her hair with a plush towel.
Jo didn’t approve of little old ladies sneaking through queues, neither did she approve of people who didn’t tip her when she served coffee with a big smile.
Katherina
Katherina knew that a woman was worth as much as the time she invested in herself. Her mother taught her that. And she also taught Katherina how to curl and tie her hair up, so that she would look sophisticated and pretty. Katherina knew that women so valuable catch the best men. Which was good, because if she caught a dentist or a banker she would probably forget about the lady who sells the new nylon stockings, and the way she smiles at her.
