Where Flowers Become Hair

The work depicts a serene portrait of a woman in which the face and the flowers almost completely merge. The figure emerges only partially from a soft, off-white background. Her eyes are almost entirely absent, shifting the focus to the subtle mouth, the long neck and, above all, the exuberant forms surrounding her head. These forms can be interpreted as flowers, but also as an abstract headdress that seems to be slowly dissolving into the paint.

The palette consists mainly of powdery blue, greyish blue and cream, complemented by small beige and golden accents. The dark floral forms on the left lend the portrait a sense of weight, whilst the lighter areas on the right feel transparent and ephemeral. It is striking how much of the face remains unpainted. Yet, with just a few brushstrokes, a distinct feminine presence emerges.

A lovely little detail is the dark accent just above the mouth. Together with the barely suggested lips, this provides an unexpected point of recognition in the otherwise almost weightless face. The neck, too, is not defined by a hard outline, but emerges from negative space and a few patches of blue paint.

The work strikes a balance between a female portrait, abstract art and botanical art. It is precisely because so much is omitted that the image takes on a dreamlike and timeless quality: as if the woman were not standing behind the flowers, but slowly emerging from them.