![exhibit: Isa Lorenzo’s Incarnate
Doomsayers believe that the world will end in 2012. A book that fell into Isa Lorenzo’s hands describes the extinction event as though it were a work of science fiction, a “sequel to the Star Wars Trilogy yet to be written by [George] Lucas,” as she puts it.
The book explained that people would be reborn as other animate life forms, a concept that Ms. Lorenzo found limiting. “There must be an infinite number of beings in the universe,” she says.
And so she decided to play God in her darkroom and see what would come out. Incarnate, a photography exhibition, imagines the post-apocalyptic fate of humankind as a morphological mix-and-match.
A suit of armor gains metal wings and flies through the night like a medieval manananggal. A forest fern sprouts from the neck of a Grecian statue, turning it into a garden Gorgon with fronds for hair. Hieroglyph-like images of deer and horse heads—“the easiest to sew onto human bodies,” according to the artist—resemble a pantheon of theriocephalic Egyptian deities.
Ms. Lorenzo, apropos of nothing, asks: “May I just say that I really like my show? Because I really do!” Her honest enthusiasm for Incarnate is refreshing since many artists play the cool, blasé card when talking about their shows, as if liking their own work were forbidden.
“I feel that it’s so simple,” she continues, “but you come away from it with the feeling that you saw something.”
(Incarnate closes today. Go see it as Silverlens. Pictured: Phoenix Dextra)](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ltaobsrC5O1qz8ztfo1_400.jpg)
exhibit: Isa Lorenzo’s Incarnate
Doomsayers believe that the world will end in 2012. A book that fell into Isa Lorenzo’s hands describes the extinction event as though it were a work of science fiction, a “sequel to the Star Wars Trilogy yet to be written by [George] Lucas,” as she puts it.
The book explained that people would be reborn as other animate life forms, a concept that Ms. Lorenzo found limiting. “There must be an infinite number of beings in the universe,” she says.
And so she decided to play God in her darkroom and see what would come out. Incarnate, a photography exhibition, imagines the post-apocalyptic fate of humankind as a morphological mix-and-match.
A suit of armor gains metal wings and flies through the night like a medieval manananggal. A forest fern sprouts from the neck of a Grecian statue, turning it into a garden Gorgon with fronds for hair. Hieroglyph-like images of deer and horse heads—“the easiest to sew onto human bodies,” according to the artist—resemble a pantheon of theriocephalic Egyptian deities.
Ms. Lorenzo, apropos of nothing, asks: “May I just say that I really like my show? Because I really do!” Her honest enthusiasm for Incarnate is refreshing since many artists play the cool, blasé card when talking about their shows, as if liking their own work were forbidden.
“I feel that it’s so simple,” she continues, “but you come away from it with the feeling that you saw something.”
(Incarnate closes today. Go see it as Silverlens. Pictured: Phoenix Dextra)
