I wanted to explore raw portrait of a musician and singer against an increasingly exaggerated background. This wonderlandish couture perfectly expresses the singer’s lyrics, dreams and vivid music rhythms.
‘I woke up this morning and wandered in a jungle full of guitars and roses. The petals of roses were falling down off diadems by little pretty beasts.
I saw a young man who turned to stone and petals of flowers died around him. I played my guitar and sang the words he was whispering me. And then the words died and became cold as a lonely stone.
In a wonderlandish fog I saw some roses dancing and performing ballet. No, maybe there were many, loads of graceful feet moving to music I was playing. Many bare legs stepping onto roses, dancing crazy without even hearing the music. They didn’t care or maybe they weren’t aware of me playing in the middle of them. They completely understood symmetry and were able to form nice shapes while still dancing around me, even without noticing me.
They weren’t sleeping statuettes, I was sure, they were having fun at a proper feast around me. At a size of a bigger rose, they had sensitive ears to hear my silent rock song.
He was a small guy of a Baroque church, fluttering his wings silently on my shoulder. And the rose petals were falling on my guitar out of his stony wings. I heard the magic drums somewhere in the background, playing louder and louder, scaring the petals and blossoms away. I wasn’t sure whether it was my heart pounding while I was waking up, or just me, playing guitar stronger and stronger without wanting to escape my dream.’
This series is about baroque and rock. No dream, only wonderlandish reality.