PRINT January 2019


Stills from Marianna Simnett’s Blood In My Milk, 2018, five-channel HD video, color, sound, 73 minutes.

A KNIFE PUNCTURES FLESH. The blade enters a nasal passageway, and the camera shakes with every cut. Tweezers penetrate the frame and tug out a lump of bloody tissue and bone. “Nothing to worry about,” the surgeon says. Quivering atop a piece of medical gauze, the extracted substance resembles a slug, or a sliver of tongue. “Who are you?” the young patient asks, frowning. “We are your inferior turbinates,” the lump replies, now personified by a pair of adolescents wrapped in pink sleeping bags. Thus begins the young patient’s nightmare, starring a giant papier-mâché nose—a proxy for her own. As she dreams that the teens are chewing on its oversize nostrils, her nose begins to bleed. The image is a vision of the body attacking itself, of the undesired parts returning to haunt it, like phantom limbs.

Marianna Simnett’s Blood In My Milk, 2018, weaves four of the artist’s works to

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