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Maree Horner is a NZ artist investigating the processes of printmaking, painting, mixed media and digital imagery. Most of her recent work explores the relationship between female and male manifest in images that juxtapose selected familiar objects with various elements that evoke the male.

She completed a Master of Fine Arts degree in sculpture at Elam School of Fine Arts, University of Auckland in 1974. After a period of overseas travel in the late 1970s she settled in Taranaki and with her partner raised their family. She lives and works in Kaponga, Taranaki, New Zealand.

GROUNDSWELL: Avant-Garde Auckland 1971-79




SUMMONING THE SURREAL - Taranaki Daily News, 12 April 2008

Art plugs us into an upside-down realm. This “art realm” helps us understand reality from a perspective that brings the shadows of culture to life. In other words art has the ability to re-image life in a way that reveals thoughts that would otherwise be hidden and suppressed due to societal conventions. One particular art movement that became rather successful at this was Surrealism which started in the 1920s. Informed by the psychoanalysis of Sigmund Freud the surrealists aimed to unlock the doors of the subconscious. To gain access into the hidden chambers of the brain the surrealists’ paid close attention to dreams and also made up intuitive games and exercises. One of Salvador Dali’s strategies was to lie-down with a spoon in his hand with pencil and paper close by. The moment Dali started to fall asleep the spoon would slip out of his hand and hit a saucer. Startled by the spoons impact he would immediately grab the pencil and record the first random thing that popped into his head. By juxtaposing random assortments of objects, images and text the surrealists revealed entrenched primordial human traits. For instance, a famous sculpture by artist Man Ray comprised of a household iron which he welded on one inch spikes to its smooth surface. This alteration transformed a domestic tool used to smooth out clothing into a torturous device - an artistic act that draws to mind underlying tension or latent sadistic desires within the home. Therefore, the surrealists’ bizarre creations made apparent very common human emotions, desires or thoughts that moral society would deem sordid and debased.

Maree Horner a Taranaki based artist has devoted her practice to investigating how the random assortment of imagery can reveal such latent understanding about human habitation and relationships. Horner has exhibited throughout New Zealand and has been collected by the Govett-Brewster Art Gallery. Having studied at Elam art school in Auckland during the 70s Horner was involved in the early development of conceptual and post-object art in New Zealand. She became known for her sculptural works that demonstrated a sensitivity of material and form. These works included precarious glass constructions, rubber tyre experiments, ice monoliths, sand forms and one work consisting of an electrified domestic arm chair. Since the mid 90s Horner has focused almost entirely on drawing, painting, printmaking and digital photography. The inquiry of Horner’s practice is somewhat similar to the surrealists’ investigation of juxtaposition and psychoanalysis. However, her work doesn’t share the wild imagination or maddening delusion of early surrealism - rather Horner’s imagery is cunningly unobtrusive, persistently repetitive and more enigmatic.

Often working at a large scale and reduced palette of pink, black and white Horner’s mixed media works present us with familiar but uncanny imagery. The imagery depicts a lexicon of objects ranging from humble domestic items such as sofas, baths, dressing tables, jugs, paper bags and cardboard boxes juxtaposed with grand architectural forms like pyramidal columns and in her latter works a illustrative style donkey. Horner repetitiously rearranges this array of imagery in each work by pairing up different objects. Each new composition creates an absurd surreal situation. Rather than diminish the symbolic power of each item the repetition makes us consider the possible meanings of the pictured objects even more – to the point where we are less concerned with what each object is and more interested in the relationship suggested between their contrasting forms. Successively we become aware of a female and male narrative as grand pyramidal columns are reduced in scale and pictured inside paper bags or a donkey trodding on a bed – odd sexual innuendos that draw attention to the social conditioning of gender relationships and suppressed sexuality.

In a new body of work entitled Furniture of the World, Horner has further developed her visual language but this time using digital photography. These works depict domestic furniture and objects containing pounds of flesh. On closer inspection you notice that each fleshy lump has a belly button. Considering the belly button being the umbilical cords port and source of foetal nourishment – together with the receptacle nature of these domestic containers – suggest complicated but very instinctual meanings. The domestic containers could indicate the influence our lived environment and family structure in which we develop as a secondary womb – a place where we learn about how to behave and belong. However, there is a touch of horror to these works bringing to mind news stories of troubling psychopathic killers – usually in the US - that mutilate the innocent and hiding the dissected corpses in fridges or boxes - playing out their sick fanaticises. Therefore, these works sit on a tenuous line being both comfortably homely or horrifically debauched - a betwixt and elusive conclusion that reveals more about the animal within us and how little we understand our suppressed psyche.

Bruce E Phillips




Review - visual arts column, DOMINION POST, Friday March 16, 2007

Nearby in Maree Horner’s series Eternal Realities, donkey’s are posed like male photographic models in contained areas within the home: in an opened wardrobe one moment, feet on a plush chair or poised miniature in a fireplace in another. In an ongoing series of works Horner opens out for questioning the symbolism of domestic settings and gender roles with intriguing, surreal recontextualisation of stock props. The surface of the etchings is squared as if they have been unfolded, encouraging an unpacking of meaning, while the still subjects are coolly dramatised by shadows and shading.

Mark Amery

Review - PRESTO - Art & Culture, Christchurch, March 2007

This is no Eeyore. That cuddly animal with its wobbly seams, the melancholic foil to Winnie-the-Pooh's endearing optimism, has nothing to do with the disturbing presence of a round-bellied donkey in this series of etchings from Taranaki artist Maree Horner.
As with Horner's earlier works illusion here is the stripped of story - the traditional narrative we have come to expect from print-making medium - and focuses instead on an overt symbolism: male and female, outdoor and indoor, animate and inanimate. Yet, unlike many of Horner's earlier works with their monumental architectural imagery, scale here is more subtle - the donkey is shrunk to the size that allows it to stand in the empty fireplace or circular pool in obscene but somehow believable domination of the demure paraphernalia of the home landscape. The donkey seems to fit, its association with farmyard scenery and animal husbandry adding a weird logic to these stagey tableaux. Religion and literature are thick with references to the lowly beast of burden. The ass was a symbol of the Greek god Dionysus, god of wine, agriculture, fertility and a Bacchian sexual ecstasy. In both Jewish and Christian traditions, the messiah was often described as riding on a donkey, once a symbol of wealth (it was better than going by foot) then later indicative of commoner status as the wealthy strode ahead on horse back.
The donkey is also a symbol of unthinking animality - stubborn, irrational, loud. In fables and folktales donkeys or asses often betray their disguises by braying loudly - that dumb, distinctive and instinctive cry used so disparagingly - and incorrectly - against et al's installation concerning nuclear testing in the Pacific. In these works, however, the symbol of the donkey is undeniably sexual. Each small etching uses the idea of female receptacle - the open drawer, the welcoming armchair, the empty box - as symbols of feminine domesticity and sexual acquiescence. Within these soft interiors the brutish act of a domesticated animal pawing back the bedspread, mounting the chair or muddying the para pool is both repellent and restrained, a static performance of sexual infiltration both monstrous and quietly acceptable. Each scenario challenges the viewer; the animals brazen gaze, dumb and confrontational within the self conscious grid of the etching plate, daring the viewer to turn away in justifiable horror.

Danny Bates



Exhibited at Bath Street Gallery, Parnell, Auckland - December 2004

Close your eyes for a moment. Now with your mind’s eye, try to capture images of some key objects in your home environment that speak volumes about the most fundamental functions of that space – be it social interaction, the unfolding of relationships, the caring for and sharing with others, the exploration of self. The domestic environment is potentially a space for some of the most challenging experiences in our entire lives. It is here we can encounter powerful emotions wrapped up in the complexities of relationships and human endeavour. The objects at the core of this intensity, those items of furniture or utensils that you might now be thinking of, are often those embroiled in the most social or the most mundane of activities: a living room couch, the open fire, the clothes line, beds, the bath, the dining table, the laundry buckets and everyday kitchen items. Now remove the myriad of emotions surrounding these objects. Consider them instead for their potential symbolic nature, for what they can, in turn, tell you about a world far beyond their domestic context. This is the world that Maree Horner is interested in, a world where the artist demands that the domestic objects she paints tackle a bigger job than that dictated by their obvious daily functions. They must work hard to create new and potent associations, indeed to challenge and provoke. As writer Roger Peters has said, “The whole weight of culture might, in the end, find its denouement in relation to a piece of furniture.”
Not every object is up to the job but by using selected ones from around her home as her primary visual imagery, Horner principally explores the nature of the relationship between the feminine and the masculine, between the mind and the body, between eroticism and fantasy. She deals with the internal and the external, the unspoken and the articulate, the provocative and the familiar.
A cardboard box, painted fleshy pink, could be read in feminine, nurturing terms, for example, while it can also be seen as an element in a still life composition. (The same can be said for her buckets, jugs and pots.) It can also operate as a monumental landscape element, taking on architectural forms and dictating the equation between space, form, volume and scale. In another example, the couch is a strong metaphor with direct human associations – it also has arms, legs, a back and spine but the shadows and crumpled cushions also create a new landscape within its folds. The mixing up of scale serves to undermine existing power structures symbolically inherent in objects such as monumental marble archways and erect columns and to establish new, more meaningful ones. Horner paints each central object at a life size scale. Her passion for minimalist sculptural installation brings an aesthetic here of a pared down, controlled environment where the viewer’s body, placed in front of the life size objects, instinctively reacts as if standing before a three dimensional scene. You can, in fact, measure yourself in relation to the objects in front of you – like a fireplace or doorway – and therefore in relation to the internal dialogue of the works.Taking these three key genres, the associations to body, the interest in still life constructions and the manipulation of internal and external landscapes, Horner dislocates the objects she paints and re-contextualises them, often with theatrical effect, so they become players in an uneasy socio-cultural debate

Sue Gardiner


Review - Vibe; issue 7 - Wellington, 2003

Her work captures the tropes of modernist monumentalism and contrasts this with items from the realms of the familiar in ways which are both provocative and evocative. This series of works features renderings of articles of domesticity such as boxes, sheets, bags, suitcases and a sofa at life size with addition of diminutized monuments; disassembled archways and pyramidal columns. At first glance, the work appeals simplistic, perhaps even banal and austere and the product of arcane aggrandizement, but this impression is an entirely false one. Intertextually, the works create a hubbub of conversation, highlighting the frisson between mind and body, the erotic, the corporeal and the cerebral. An architectural observer noted that the detail lines were illuminating, and the shadowing was suggestive, slightly sinister and deeply subversive. The real subversive quality lies in the rendering of the various images in contrapuntal connection, creating a new landscape which fetishes the monumental and eroticizes the familiar; the notes playing harmony and discordance. The pictorial incongruity belies a sardonic fidelity. The pieces offer tantalising glimpses of alterior space; what is not revealed is just as powerful. 'Box' seems to concatenate these strands of ideas, the arch and the column inside the shaded box suggest alteriority, confinement, darkness but also, paradoxically, more ambrosial readings. The most voluble piece is 'Book'. The masculine, supplicant, speaks on the outer trying to relitigate with the interior feminine, a world of arcane knowledge and almost mystical fascination. The voice could be plangent, or conversely dictatorial or conciliatory.It is the suggestibility, the multiplicity of readings which makes Horner's oeuvre noteworthy. In a sense, the pieces are contemplative. Though the mono print panels of the impressive larger work 'Couch' display technical proficiency, it is on the conceptual plane where the artist generates a font of ideas and inspires paradigmatic shifts in the viewer or the listener (though the audio is metaphorical rather than actual).

Trevor Landers



Cameo Wall Project - tetuhu-the mark, Manukau 6th March - 12th April 2004

The archaeology of the ideas in this work can be traced back to much earlier works and series. ’The Chair’ (1974) could be said to be the concept godparent of this work, for it too was a work which dealt with a familiar object, and had radicalising features which opened up new spaces for contemplation. In that case it was caused by enmeshing and electrification; a bitter commentary on the anomie and stifling indifference of the era. However ‘The Chair’ lacked the tropes of modernist monumentalism which have become a leitmotiv of Horner’s subsequent work. (1)

The Monumental Obsessions series features renderings of articles of domesticity such as boxes, sheets, bags, suitcases and a couch at life size with addition of diminutized monuments; disassembled archways and pyramidal columns. At first glance, Horner’s work appeals simplistic, perhaps even banal and the product of arcane aggrandizement, but this impression is an entirely false one. Intertextually, the works create a hubbub of conversation, highlighting the frisson between mind and body, the erotic, the corporeal and the cerebral. Her work has a decided architectural quality. Her detail lines are illuminating, and deeply subversive.  The real subversive quality however lies in the rendering of the various images in contrapuntal connection, creating a landscape which fetishes the monumental and eroticizes the familiar; the notes playing harmony and discordance. The pictorial incongruity belies a sardonic fidelity. The pieces offer tantalising glimpses of alterior space; what is not revealed is just as powerful as what is. (2)

Wallpaper, a work on a grand scale, continues this approach. The ‘characters’, a couch, a lampshade, and a pyramidal column and an archway seem burlesque but it is the dialogue between which is intriguing. As a backdrop to this milieu, the wallpaper backing is culled from the hatches, matches, and despatches’ columns of The New Zealand Herald. Moments of joy, grief and celebration become the background, seemingly inconsequential, but anything but. Life affirming, the wallpaper reminds of how glibly we live our individual lives, and how the cycle of life is ever present but sometimes barely detectable.  The works materiality and its particular action through time have necessarily been elided. 

The life size couch is a kind of inversion. It looks monumental, dwarfing the more monumental structures that march towards the doorway. The couch appears as a benign object, but it is the principle auteur. Its size enables the work to induce in us a sense of familiarity, a sense of immediacy, an appeal to our nostalgic memories, and a possible unravelling of our public defences.  For me, the artist’s exploration of phallocentricism and gender relations makes her work so fecund. The couch, shimmering clitoral pink, reinforces the subterranean eroticism that inveigles the viewer subconsciously into a reverie of homeliness and creature comfort.

By re-drawing the landscape in the domestic, Horner may be valorising the domestic labour of women and the private sphere, whilst lamenting the fixation with large public erections, and the world dominated by masculine morays.  However, it is the suggestibility, the multiplicity of readings which is a feature of her work. The pieces are contemplative and interrogative. New puzzlement can be found in each panel, as intricate detail takes on new connotations.

Although her technical proficiency is admirable, it is on the conceptual plane where the artist generates her font of ideas and inspires paradigmatic shifts in the viewer. Recasting the traditional paradigm, where the male is in the ascendency and female is subordinate and an object of sexual desire, also could be seen as a critique of marriage, domesticity and female subservience to ‘the monumental’."

The background to this is the wallpaper itself, which features both monuments as a repeating motif. This is where the monumental and the quotidian meet, as if each is jostling for the viewers’ attention, a complex interplay of the familiar and the erotic.  The pyramidal column, like a tumescent penis, (or worse, the impersonality of a marble dildo), is juxtaposed against a softer archway, uterine or cervical in nature; an unmistakeable feminine form, the undulating surface perhaps a labial imitation. There is opining dialogue between the two articles, a process of inquisition and re-positioning.

 Trevor Landers

1. new art, Some recent New Zealand sculpture and post-object art, edited by Jim Allen & Wystan Curnow,  Plb Heineman (1974)

2. Trevor Landers, ‘Monumental Obsessions’, Vibe, issue 7, (2003).




Exhibited at the Govett Brewster Art Gallery - 21st September-3rd November 1996.

This series of seven works by Maree Horner could be seen to pose a question that is basic to our being. That question could be framed as: How to represent in an artwork the relationship between the male and the female, between the masculine and the feminine, in an incisive and telling way.

To that end, it can be noted, that each work presented here contextualises a cultural or artistic element, the Greek fluted column or the shape of the Egyptian pyramid, within the matrix of a familiar or domestic piece of furniture. What at a glance might seem incongruous, such as a pyramid on a chair, or two pyramids on a bed, seems also, somehow, sardonically correct. These works suggest that the domestic item is in some way the centre within which the meaning of the columns and pyramids may come to rest. Better still that they attain their true and full meaning when determined in that way. The whole weight of culture might, in the end, find its denouement in relation to a piece of furniture. To understand this seeming paradox, to throw some light on the intent of these works, it might be instructive to consider the Greek Temple or the Egyptian Pyramid, in relation to its native landscape. The Greek Temple is usually set in a symbolic relationship to the valleys and clefts, the mountains and peaks nearby, whilst the Egyptian Pyramids stand in their permanence against the ubiquitous shifting sands of the desert. Valiant as they might be in their defiance of the surroundings, in their pseudo sylvan whiteness or monumental scale relative to man, they are still dwarfed by their settings, by the undeniability of Nature and the inevitability of the Earth.

In general the contrast here is between Mother Nature and the assertions of a masculine paradigm. The columns of the Temple capped by the pediment and the outer form of the Pyramid thrusting to the sky assert their masculinity over the feminine reading of the same shapes as containers with their usually discreet entrances and germaine insides. As if to emphasise the masculine dimension of the cultural element these works use the phallocentricity of the single column, or the closed tetrahedron of the pyramid. We are left in no doubt as to their sexual symbolism and so in no doubt as to the gender of the contextualising shapes. The keyhole of the BOX, the open drawer in the TABLE, the CUPBOARD ajar, the soft enclosing forms of the CHAIR, and the landscape of the BED, suggest or even better insist, that the relation in each work is between the female and the male.

If the Temple in the landscape or the Pyramid in the desert is indeed a male element conceptualized by Mother Earth then what we have to come to understand is why in these works items of furniture take that role instead and do so with an effect that renders the whole equation perhaps more precisely than a painting of the original in its setting would do. If, this time, the nature of the interior of the Temple or the Pyramid is taken into account rather than its relationship to its surroundings we are minded that within the original Temples and Pyramids furniture abounded either to serve the needs of worship or the needs of the dead. From the Egyptian pyramids particularly extant items of furniture have a reality and a presence at least as palpable as, if not more than, the remnants of the dead.

What we have to face in these works is the fact that in a sense the original has been turned inside out in relation to itself. How more ironical, to convey the sense of context than to employ the domestic contrivances that epitomise the femme, at least as convention would have it. And why ironical? Firstly, because of the difficulty, if not the impossibility, of conveying this relationship in a painting of the site. Secondly that the acceptance of the fact of painting, of its scale, dimensions and kinaesthetic allure, demands an inversion of reality in the service of the need to allude, in short, to make an effective work of art.

These works capitalises not on illusion so much as on symbolic perception. They appreciate that meaning in art is generated in the mind prescient as it is in the body and that it is best generated by acknowledging the gender equation of the mind relative to the body. They attempt to resolve this equation by both formal means of size, scale, kinaesthetic, picture plane and fracture, and by means of locating content in the nexus of the erotic (the process of understanding as it is affected by the feminine and the masculine).

The size of these works or more significantly the size of the items of furniture in the works is crucial to their effect. That the items of furniture are of a size as we would imagine them in life enables the work to induce in us a sense of familiarity, a sense of kinaesthetic immediacy, an appeal to our comfort zones, and a response from the body language of everyday interaction that is confounded by the relationship of scale. Either the furniture dilates as the columns or pyramids assert their normal size, or the columns and pyramids shrink as we reconcile the furniture to our lives.

If these works use metaphor to suggest a relationship between the feminine and the masculine they also use a sort of crazy metonymy where a part (the furniture) represents the whole (landscape) and also represents the inverted relation of furniture to Temple or Pyramid. Is the furniture colossal and so the columns and pyramids true to scale or are the columns and pyramids miniscule and the furniture normal sized. In this way the works play with our kinaesthetic sense both by drawing us in, in terms of our usual interaction with these items of furniture we use everyday but then by expanding our expectations by forcing us to decide how we stand with it or how it stands with us. Whatever, our sense of kinaesthetic immediacy is engaged and enlarged.

This sense of physical enticement is enhanced by the titling of surfaces forward in the picture plane and further by the tantalizing glimpses into darkened interior spaces. The various works do this in particular ways. In the BATH, for instance, the column pieces are seemingly floating on the surface of the water that is either thick with minerals as if it were a super-concentrated Dead Sea or as if these might be vesiculated Temple remnants floating, pumice like, in the Aegean from the hypothesized volcanic eruption that gave birth to the myth of Atlantis.

Then there is the element of danger implied by the sharp edges and points or the collapsing column pieces as if to conflate the ever present danger of falling masonry and the inherent danger in the domestic environment of tables, chairs, beds, baths, where unexpected accidents occur or planned misadventure is perpetrated time and again in real life and again on a real scale.

Crucial also is the recognition of fracture. We are not allowed to forget that these are works of art made by artistic processes. The grid of printed components that form the basis of these works takes the reality of conceptual processes into the reality of fracture. These components, though, are not overstated (by, for instance, numbering them ad nauseam) but merely assert their independent part in the making. In doing that appropriately they are able to add a subtle level to the symbolic intensity by echoing the stone block construction of the Pyramids and the basic elements of the columns and Temples. A bit more fancifully the works could be seen as mirages on the surfaces of those structures or as x-rays into their furnitured interiors.

The above formal considerations obviously have their part to play in the content of these works. They have been considered separately to give a sense as to how rigorously they have been put in place by the artist to underpin and accentuate the content that is there. If we move now to the sense of erotics evident in these works the intent is to gradually unfold just what is meant by that term in relation to art and to show how these works epitomise that understanding, and also epitomise the relation of art to life. Although no flesh, no bodies, no people, no persons are evident in these works, there is an anthropomorphism of size, and a further physiological and physionomical presence that evokes a corporality more dramatic than four limbs, a trunk, and a head in one. The arm of a CHAIR, the keyhole in the BOX, the legs of the TABLE, the huge black mouth under the BED, the pyramids as breasts or as impossibly mating mates, all focus our body language in a welter of meaning beyond the obviousness of absence.

As if to emphasise this embodiedness of the objects the furniture is tinted in shades of pink through to white; fleshiness and ghosts of fleshiness set against the white of the classical elements and the black and paper white of the background pattern of deep shadows and streaky light. The cultural elements, the columns and pyramids, are starkly white, sperm like in their determined masculinity, except for the only whole column in the series where the fulgent light from the CUPBOARD causes the near side to glow pink in expectation.

Identifiably male and female elements appear consistently in relationship throughout these works with the masculine elements being undeniably contextualised by the female elements. This state of affairs seems congruent with the biological relationship of female and male where the female chromosomes are primary and the male possibility results from a modification of that state. In that sense bisexuality is a strategy devised by the female organism to further its own reproductive and evolutionary possibilities. It is as if the male is a projection of female determination, of female desires or even of female fantasy.

Ironically the further the male drifts or asserts himself from the female the more he contextualises himself in the broader feminine matrix of nature until in the case of mega structures such as pyramids he merely identifies the futility of his conceit.

Here now it is important to distinguish two strategies for the return of the male to the female. Both have to do with conception, the one sexual and the other erotic. One is of the body and the other of the mind. A clear distinction is drawn etymologically between the sexual as of female/male, procreative, biological, and the erotic as of desire, of states of mind to do with the sexual. This is the import of the Myth of Maui attempting to re-enter Hine Nui Te Po through her vagina and being squeezed to death. The mythical, the symbolic, the artistic does not produce children - rather it characterises the mind, it conceives only in terms of sensations and ideas. Hence the story of Maui as being a classic erotic myth and as being a salutary one for our minds.

So here we have another and maybe more basic reason as to why furniture as the femme replaces Nature in these works. A painting of the original Temple or Pyramid with its site would employ the paradigm of nature which logically, biologically connects with the sexual as the human being is a natural part of its domain. By substituting furniture in which Nature has been transformed by the processes of the mind and contextualising the super cultural elements in that ideated base the work is free to act as it can or should as an object of thought, as a pure, or near pure, conception of the mind.

In this way the work is as liberated as much as it can be from biological parameters. Because of its erotic content, its association of the female and the male in terms of the relationship of the mind to the body, it accesses the body in the only way remaining to it, through the mind. The mind is housed within the body.

If we combine this erotics of the mind, of the very process of "conception" of ideas and their modes of expression, with the formal elements mentioned above and the elements of danger and dark recesses and the kinaesthetic insistence of the feminine and masculine components, we find that these works are not to be read as erotic in just a gratuitous sense of gross pleasure or its violent denial. Rather, they are deeply founded in an understanding of the erotics of the feminine and the masculine both as a sophisticated rendering of the gender equation and an appreciation as to just how that translates into artistic means.

Whereas physical conception necessarily involves both the female and male as autonomous beings, mental "conception" involves, for both female and male, both feminine and masculine components, combined not sexually but erotically. In fact the pervasiveness of this paradigm in human understanding and expression would suggest that constitutive elements for the functioning of the mind are characterised by the sexual in this erotic sense.

Not only are these works produced in a consciously artistic way through formal means, they are conceived in a way that enables effective art to be conveyed. And that is as a product of the mind that gives a sense of the erotic body, that state of mind that acknowledges the peculiarity of its gender base. And that, it seems, is how to represent in an artwork the relationship between the female and the male, between the masculine and the feminine, in an incisive and telling way.

(Thank you Marcel D.)

Roger Peters