A few months back I was in Berlin. At least I think it was Berlin. It was a city, at any rate, beginning with ‘B’.
Whilst in this city, this mysterious city, I stumbled upon an exhibition of works by a young photographer, Wilma Heffeger. I say ‘stumbled upon’: in actuality, I am no stumbler. I move gracefully through life, propelled by the soft winds of destiny. And so on and so forth.
The important thing to take from all of this is that I greatly enjoyed the exhibition. Heffeger’s work moved me in ways I had never imagined I would, or could, be moved. It also moved me in ways I find rather hard to explain. Take, for instance, the following work, entitled One of These Trees is a Sculpture:
The title, I should note, is typical. Other works of Heffeger’s include One of These Fish is a Sculpture, One of These Clouds is a Sculpture and One of These Toasters is a Sculpture. Her series of tree works, however, work best for me, for reasons I cannot even contemplate explaining.
All of the above begs an obvious question: is one of those trees a sculpture?
Heffeger is, of course, silent on the subject. As for me…