How they reach out to us, pollinating the air with their gaze, flowering their own bodies, making life a garden. Everything has its own bloom - a buttonhole, the palm, the contours of the face – and the body is always ripe for planting. Listen and you can hear the secrets whispering through the stems. Listen and you might catch a speck of truth to pull you back home. Perhaps you’ll pick one, hold it to you like these boys, hold it loose as a childhood toy, hold it like comfort itself. Remember, beauty comes from growing things.
So shows this lens. Jessica Sidenros catches these models - Augustine, Jean Jacques, Tommy, Marlon - holding and held by these bright flowers. Each of them is a burst of colour flecking life into the shots like a bullet. It focuses the eye to have growing things hanging from the clothes - makes the fabrics themselves more vivid as if they have been nudged into motion by the colours’ pulsing. Even bare flesh is enriched.
But colour has to fade. Black and white come always, seeping into everything like strange ink. It is an antidote to the luminosity of living. Here they are, suspended, frozen between breaths, waiting for rebirth and the return of green things.