9 cyanotype photograms (30x30 cm)
Exhibited at SIKKA Art Fair (Dubai, UAE, 2018)
EGOMANIA is a highly intimate pursuit, a path of contemplation into my own narcissistic tendencies, an attempt to reveal the roots of narcissistic personality disorder. Therefore, the narrative of the poem is developed in the first person singular and the series of photographs revolves around my own image.
In my contemplative research, I revealed that narcissistic personality is rooted in our childhood. Our parents love us; they want the best for us. However, maybe unintentionally, they make us feel that their love needs to be deserved. Their opinion matters. If they think we behave well, we feel high; if they think we misbehave, we feel down. As a result, we disconnect from our own valuing process and focus on evaluations advanced by significant others. This frame of mind leaves us with the existential void, which can be filled only with responses from the outer world. Hence, people with narcissistic personality do everything to be praised, because only then they would feel worthwhile. These tendencies become exaggerated by narcissistic attitudes prevailing in individualistic ideology, which emphasizes exceptional individual abilities and high individual achievements and performance. Narcissistic personality multiplied by narcissistic social values encourages us to disconnect from our inner self, which in turn results in development of narcissistic personality disorder.
This project continues my experimental work in verbal-visual gestalts. Key methodology reflects theoretical considerations advanced by my studies in psychology of creativity. It is assumed that one of the major purposes of creative work is to elicit aesthetical reaction in the recipient. The aesthetical reaction could be achieved via satiation with multiple meanings presented through multiple sensory modalities. Thereby, a greater synergy is achieved, which in turn increases aesthetical reaction to a work of art.
In this project, I combine poetry and photography. The verbal plane is established by a poem running across all photograms in a series. The visual plane is established by centripetal series of the protagonist’s portraits. To achieve a greater synergy between verbal and visual planes, I introduced two elements of randomness to the relationship between a text and an image. First, regardless of the content of the verse and the facial expression of the portrait, both verbal and visual planes cover the entire space of the photogram. Convergence of text and image contours therefore appears to be arbitrary. Second, I employed cyanotype technique. This almost two hundred year old analog photographic printing process produces a cyan-blue print. The print develops in the open sunlight. The length of exposure, the intensity of light, and the angle of refraction affect the hues and the contrasts of different parts of the print. These factors cannot be fully controlled thereby imparting the element of unpredictability to the process.
TEXT OF THE POEM
I can be strong
when they see me strong.
I can love
when someone wants to see my love.
I can be joyful,
caring,
smart –
but only in the eye of the beholder.
when they see me strong.
I can love
when someone wants to see my love.
I can be joyful,
caring,
smart –
but only in the eye of the beholder.
And inside, I’m void
exhausted,
loveless,
joyless,
careless,
stupid.
exhausted,
loveless,
joyless,
careless,
stupid.
Void without a bottom.
How can I fill it up?
How can I fill it up?
And I do the undoable
to feel the power.
I conquer women
to saturate with love.
I rock nights long
to impregnate with joy.
I make friends
to be taken care of.
I make discoveries
to make the world perfect –
my world.
to feel the power.
I conquer women
to saturate with love.
I rock nights long
to impregnate with joy.
I make friends
to be taken care of.
I make discoveries
to make the world perfect –
my world.
But everything dissolves in the mirror.
Amalgam of my image
fused from the crystals of shame,
guilt,
impotence,
envy,
anger
is covered with a thin layer of water.
And somewhere in between –
my face.
Or is it not mine?
Amalgam of my image
fused from the crystals of shame,
guilt,
impotence,
envy,
anger
is covered with a thin layer of water.
And somewhere in between –
my face.
Or is it not mine?
And again – void without a bottom.
How can I fill it up?
How can I fill it up?
And I become a hero,
a seducer,
a politician,
a scientists,
an artist.
I color my life
with all colors of the spectrum.
But again they dissolve in the mirror.
a seducer,
a politician,
a scientists,
an artist.
I color my life
with all colors of the spectrum.
But again they dissolve in the mirror.
And beyond it – void without a bottom.
How can I fill it up?
How can I fill it up?
And I give birth to children.
I love them,
care for them,
nurture them.
And I make them unhappy.
For I'm just looking for myself – in them.
I love them,
care for them,
nurture them.
And I make them unhappy.
For I'm just looking for myself – in them.
For I’m void without a bottom.
How can I fill it up?
How can I fill it up?
But my mother did not beat me.
She didn’t!
My mother loved me.
Oh, she did!
She loved herself in me.
She put herself in me.
She’s forgotten herself in me
and left.
She didn’t!
My mother loved me.
Oh, she did!
She loved herself in me.
She put herself in me.
She’s forgotten herself in me
and left.
And what was left in me –
void without a bottom.
void without a bottom.
How can I fill it up?
So, I give birth to children.
I love them,
care for them,
nurture them.
And I make them unhappy.
For I'm just looking for myself – in them.
I love them,
care for them,
nurture them.
And I make them unhappy.
For I'm just looking for myself – in them.
Because I’m void without a bottom.
How can I fill it up?
How can I fill it up?
And again I become a hero,
a seducer,
a politician,
a scientists,
an artist.
I color my life
with all colors of the spectrum.
But they dissolve in the mirror –
a seducer,
a politician,
a scientists,
an artist.
I color my life
with all colors of the spectrum.
But they dissolve in the mirror –
Amalgam of my image
fused from the crystals of shame,
guilt,
impotence,
envy,
anger
is covered with a thin layer of water.
And somewhere in between –
my face.
Or is it not mine?
fused from the crystals of shame,
guilt,
impotence,
envy,
anger
is covered with a thin layer of water.
And somewhere in between –
my face.
Or is it not mine?
Is it just void without a bottom?
How can I fill it up?
How can I fill it up?
And again, I do the undoable
to feel the power.
I conquer women
to saturate with love.
I rock nights long
to impregnate with joy.
I make friends
to be taken care of.
I make discoveries
to make the world perfect –
my world.
to feel the power.
I conquer women
to saturate with love.
I rock nights long
to impregnate with joy.
I make friends
to be taken care of.
I make discoveries
to make the world perfect –
my world.
But my world is void without a bottom.
In this world, I can be strong
only when they see me strong.
I can love
only when someone wants to see my love.
I can be joyful,
caring,
smart –
but only in the eye of the beholder.
In this world, I can be strong
only when they see me strong.
I can love
only when someone wants to see my love.
I can be joyful,
caring,
smart –
but only in the eye of the beholder.
And inside, I’m void
exhausted,
loveless,
joyless,
careless,
stupid.
exhausted,
loveless,
joyless,
careless,
stupid.
Void without a bottom.