The Accident is a fragmentary, lyric thing. Not a story. Not a record. An account—provisional and subject to revision. It is a reckoning with the ways language and narrative fail to make sense of the recursive slippages of loss.
Crepuscular and gradual, minimal and tender, the words and photographic poems in Anne de Marcken’s The Accident are filled with measured, continuous, indestructible longing. Juxtaposed to express the range and scope of their paradoxical and circular selves, her words and images take darkness from moment to moment and take light from moon to moon. Her work is small and bright “as if dawn itself has condensed and is hanging just above the ground.” And she has a quiet way of making you surrender, ecologically and aesthetically, through her account’s transient, fugitive beauty and explicit interlacing dormant fragility. –Vi Khi Nao, Human Tetris and A Brief Alphabet of Torture
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