has been for sale for some time, as you have seen. The maintenance and ongoing development to keep our non-profit and idealistic platform for contemporary art running and safe from hackers etc. costs money that is no longer there. Because of small investments that are necessary now and the running costs, we will have to shut down with a heavy heart at the beginning of summer on June 21.
From the first moments of my pregnancy, I dreamed of photographing myself united to my baby by the umbilical cord. This came forth in my attempt to give some balance to all the maternities in films, advertising and art history. These maternities re-enforce the stereotypes that impart from heterosexual masculine fantasies, in which exist the duality of the mother/whore, making sacred all that has to do with the “mother” (maternity with veil included).
The image of the woman that is re-enforced is not of the protagonist or hero but as someone with an illness, out of control, someone who needs assistance. Once again the woman is seen as an object, and objects do not bleed.
With these photos I wanted to show a maternity from my experience in which to give birth I open, I transform, I bleed, I scream and I smile. I smile because the pain gets me closer to my daughter, I smile because I am the protagonist, I smile because I am a hero.
Refuting the idea of fragility that is culturally learned, I wanted to show myself in control of my experience. I am standing, with the placenta still inside me. With my baby connected to me by the umbilical cord, and I do as I wish, I decide went to stop, take the photo and show myself. On a more historical level I am interested in lifting the veil. Show a maternity that is less virginal. A maternity seen from the archetypical primal woman, the woman beast that has NOTHING prohibited. Show a maternity not seen through the eyes of Eve (the divine punishment ”you will give birth with the pain of your body”) but seen through the eyes of Lucy (the first humanoid).
Over 100.000 caesarean births are performed each year in Spain. Approximately half of them are unnecessary. For this series, created in collaboration with the Association "El Parto es Nuestro" (http://www.elpartoesnuestro.es) I photographed over twenty women that had cesarean sections. Some of them did not dare to look or show their scars before becoming part of this project.
I realized that under each scar there was always a story to be told. This series and a few selected testimonies have just been compiled in a new book called "CESÁREA, más allá de la herida" published by Ob Stare (http://www.obstare.com) ISBN 978-84-937526-3-7.
