Closer
A photographer's former muse turns the lens on herself.
Sylvie Blum
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Closer
by Sylvie Blum
I once tried to stand down my own reflection in a bathroom mirror, sweaty hand clutching a pawned Pentax. I fumbled with the flash, looked off to the left in hopes that some semblance of self-portrait would emerge from the two or three shots I fired off. When I got the film developed, all that emerged was a bare shoulder, an ear, a cheek severed at the eye. Everything else in the frame was engulfed in the white fire of flash. I'd sewn myself together into a Frankenstein of light and mirror.
Sylvie Blum actualized what my then thirteen-year-old hands and mind could not. The once muse, model and spouse of the late photographer Günter Blum began her career behind the camera in 1997. And while her work is formal, flawless, and seductive, it reveals an unpredictable artist as comfortable at work with her usual arsenal of Rollei and Hasselblad 6*6 cameras as she is with a Polaroid.