No one got married, they were killed

Crépine: the delicate, lace-like membrane that envelops a pig’s organs. It is precisely this contrast that gave rise to this series.

The installation No one got married, they were killed, captures the beauty of the creature using the byproducts of the industry that processes it. What remains after the heartbeat has stopped turns out to be strangely tender: a transparent softness and vulnerability that is far removed from death, let alone the creature itself.

What does this say about the hierarchy hidden within our human compassion? How do we relate to the beauty of the animal? At what threshold of beauty does an animal deserve the right to exist? And, would the animal grant itself that same right if confronted with its own remains?