Making men (and women) of our dreams
Remarkable work from a young Russian photographer Alexander Gronsky! I love his series of photographs of cities and people at dusk from the borderlines of civilization, such as Endless Night and Chukotka Travel, both under Editorial, and his ephemeral Edges series, found under Artwork. But the collection that struck me most was Town of Brides (Editorial).
"With 1298 women for every 1000 men Novgorod is now officially called "Town of Brides". For this project women seeking marriage were asked to produce with help of police software portrait (sic) of a man of their dreams" - says Gronsky in his intro to the series.
Photographs of Novgorod women are coupled with the engineered portraits of their dream men. Women, all of them good looking, are shown in what appears to be their natural surroundings. There are no theatrics, no drama. But you sense a quietly felt static of unsatisfied yearning. What struck me most were the composite physiognomies of their imaginary men. All of them were nothing short of highly undesirable, to me (since I had to go through this exercise of looking and 'evaluating' them as dream material). These would be the men I would caution my daughter against (if I had one). But then, I don't live in Novgorod. Is it desperation felt by these women, coupled with their low self-esteem, that we see at work here? Is it our tendency to repeat our history, even if it is a violent and demoralizing one? I say this because I am well aware of the difficulties these women may be facing, being exposed to domestic violence, alcoholism, harassment, lack of opportunities, apathy, and loneliness, all byproducts of a broken empire, and of a loaded - and very immediate - history. What a poignant - and timely - portrait of imaginary anti-couples, by Alexander Gronsky!
An old Latvian adage says "Neskaties vīru pēc cepures", which loosely translates as "don't choose a man from his hat (meaning his looks)". Other cultures encourage women to give a man's shoes an inspecting gaze, to see how well upkept they are, as an indicator of just how good a husband he would make. In yet other places, you are advised to get drunk with your sweetheart, to have a sneak peak into his true nature, before you commit to nuptials. None of the men in the drawings has a hat, but they all have a distinctly unsettling look! I think I would skip the hat, ignore the shoes, and run away from any co-drinking offers altogether!
Image source: http://alexandergronsky.com
A different kind of couple, living on the opposite side of the globe, is presented in the London-based photographer Zed Nelson's brilliant and disturbingly acute series Love Me. A man, a modern-day Pygmalion in full control of his fate, proud of his workmanship, with a woman of his dreams - and a fruit of his labor - by his side. She is his Galatea, his creation, and his sunbathed version of Botticelli's Venus, his Muse - all in one.
Two couples. One imaginary. Another one real. Both products of fear, imagination, vanity and longing. Both joined by their surreal premise, and an uncertain future.
Sandro Botticelli. The Birth of Venus. 1486
Image source: commons/wikimedia.org
Jean Léon Gerôme. Pygmalion and Galatea. 1865-70.
Image source: www.victorianweb.org
