The shape of this moment is Spiral
Eckhart Tolle wrote, “Love is recognizing the duality in all.” This maxim is demonstrated brilliantly by UK-based photographer and illustrator Spiral, whose images enchant and ensare the viewer in the conflict between the innocent and the depraved, the virtuous and the fallen, the sacred and the profane.
While the dichotomy might come across as old hat in less profound work, Spiral delves recklessly into the alchemy of moment and narrative. His triumph lies in the resulting commonality between subject and setting, neither enjoying any moral predominance over the other. As the trenchcoated and bare-thighed girl forecasts sorcery, a porcelain paw emerges from the rubbish pile behind her; wisps of a golden girl’s hair ignite her mother’s tungsten wire heart; with scissors, Lewis Carroll prunes his forearm for a gnome. The conflict dissolves into an embrace, and, in total surrender, each image realizes itself as the passionate bruise of this sordid and living affair.
Nominated by Our Kitchen Sink for Erotic Photographer of the Year, Spiral abandons his women into a liberated and vulnerable agency. Their gritty, unleashed sex evokes Bukowski’s long-legged sirens, or Fante’s Camilla Lopez, the hop-head muse of her own stained sheets. If the starving world Spiral captures, ejaculated and empty, is where these women find themselves, where else might new rapture spring if not from their terrible ravenousness for friction? Is their perverse turmoil not rich enough to be called love?
Whatever your response, one is already implicated in Spiral’s p0st-incendiary scheme. The corsetted girl will lead you to this wisdom, and the tired minotaur under the moon knows that all roads must pass through this place.