I See Myself From Where You Stan by Anna Lena Krause

Shipton Gallery

London, 2025

This body is not singular. It is entangled. Scanned twice, once vulnerable, holding inward as a shield; once strong, the figure is recomposed into a single form. Both postures occupy the same space. 

You see yourself from where I stand. Move through the space and the self shifts. Which posture is real? Perhaps we are made by how we imagine being perceived, by the selves we construct for another's gaze.

The form deceives at first glance, suggesting wholeness. But gaps and absences shape everything. Some sections are clear, translucent, barely there. Others are opaque, dense, material. Some are missing entirely. Bodies are made by what is absent as much as what is present. Bodies, too, are made by what is missing.

A body is never singular. To imagine yourself into another's perception is to admit form can never be fixed. It shifts with every gaze, every position in space. It holds no final answer.