The work of Juliette Losq is captivating for a couple of reasons: firstly, the dreamlike, atmospheric settings that the viewer could very well step right into, and secondly, the power of these works--especially her installations--to openly invite us in to another, more mysterious, perhaps rather dangerous world. Objects we associate with civilization, or more specifically, being civilized, are juxtaposed against luxurious ink renderings of creeping vines and overtaking nature, and the artist creates a striking relationship that addresses themes of the Gothic, 'as typified by fragmented narratives relating mysterious incidents and landscapes that were charged with an imagined threat.'¹
The Ploutonion reminded me a little bit of Kate MccGwire in the use of the hearth as some sort of portal, through which one could either enter or from which something else could appear. The Ploutonion is particularly interesting in this respect because, on one hand, the wall and the hearth seem to be expanding from the interior of the room, larger than life, exaggerated. And on the other hand, the black space in the center of the hearth seems to beckon; as the furls of paper foliage appear to issue from the fireplace, they also appear as though they might wrap around us and pull us back in where it came from. The power of Losq's work lies in the possibilities of imagination. Given the choice, would we walk through the wardrobe?