Svetlana Atlavina
The significance of this image for The Fold lies in the time and process of its arrival. One of several images in this body of work, the unexpected appearance now seems connected to Deleuze’s vision of a world continually bending, gathering and dispersing, affecting our understanding of experiences that remain unspoken.
Some time ago, I felt I was living on the ridge of a fold, trying to remain on its sharp edge, while my life was already slipping inside a fold prepared without my knowledge.
One night, while working on my art portfolio for research, I worked with photographs produced during My Mother and I workshops. In a half-lit room, illuminated by the monitor, I assembled images of two- and three-dimensional artworks in reds, blacks, whites and flesh tones. Instead, the screen repeatedly returned intense colours and fragmented structures from an apparently different reality. Suspended between the original images and these unexpected worlds. Observing endless depth, where every bit of information was bound to both, I stopped correcting the malfunction and began cooperating with the computer, searching for the logic.
The images remained dormant in a folder until I read Deleuze’s The Fold, which unexpectedly returned me to the elasticity of time and subjectivity of those hours.
