When I first saw Lying Objects (House), my eyes were drawn to a pair of brightly lit doll legs with white ballet slippers emerging from what appears to be a miniature house. But the absence of the rest of her person left me wondering: is the overbearing presence of the house more significant than the woman’s story?
The staged composition against the plain surroundings beckon the idea of a movie set. Shadows cast on the house and the vast, dark floor create an eerie effect, eliciting uncertainty and reminding me of an empty suburban street. The woman is nearly enveloped, yet she is larger than the house. Could she stand up at any moment and dismantle the entire structure?