Demanding, imposing, and all-encompassing are not typically terms I associate with the color pink, yet Prue Stent’s ‘Blush’ series reinstates its power and influence. Your eye can easily adjust to the half face dripping pink liquid because the image creates a range of touch: the shallowly coated left side feels like a shy predecessor to completely encased right, and the goo gushing straight off the lips and chin make the blurred neck all the more stark. Seemingly bloodless skin, free of any blush or real hue, juxtaposes this pop pink that feels so connected to insides: the chewed, whipped, and soaked effect created by the bubbles feels like we’re as much diving in as outside the mouth. The drip’s completely unconcerned with blending in, instead staking its claim by winding layer upon pink layer until the impossibly still face captures both movement and pigment.
Continuing this theme of discomforting takeover is the body marked by clumps of pink gritty slime. Crystalline beads feel very feminine in that they’re almost pearls adorning the body, but viscous liquid holds them together and melds with the skin’s surface until they’re conjoined. You’d have to twist the body out of these conflicting kinds of pinks: dry, but suffocating, shirt and slime stick. Likewise, the draped fabric under and around the limbs only makes their bends and thrusts more prominent. There’s no scene without the body: all the pink comes to life on its malleable surface.
Prue Stent’s website