Factory of Dolls

At the center of the composition sits the carousel, another photographic transfer. Traditionally a symbol of joy and motion, the carousel here becomes an engine of repetition. It turns endlessly, going nowhere. Children ride it not to arrive, but to be trained in rhythm, compliance, and return. The carousel functions as a metaphor for inherited roles—gendered, emotional, social—that begin long before language.

The Winnie-the-Pooh slippers, hanging on a rope, introduce a crucial shift in tone. Pooh is a global icon of comfort, safety, and infantilized sweetness. Yet suspended rather than worn, the slippers resemble evidence, relics, or even bodies. Hung rather than placed, they imply absence: a child no longer inside them. This subtle inversion transforms a symbol of care into one of quiet loss. Childhood warmth is present—but only as an afterimage.

Painted over and between these transfers are umbilical-like lines, rendered in looping, organic strokes. These lines do not simply decorate; they connect. They evoke umbilical cords, intestines, veins, and wiring simultaneously. The ambiguity is intentional. The cords suggest nourishment and attachment, but also dependence and control. They bind dolls to the carousel, objects to bodies, childhood to systems that claim to sustain it while also restricting it.