new-york

Anne Deleporte

Simon Watson

Anne Deleporte’s work converts a simple image into a symbol for the nightmare of state control that we find ourselves increasingly diminished by even in first world countries. The process of getting a passport involves, of course, having one’s picture taken. In Paris, where Deleporte lives, a photograph of the applicant’s face is cropped down to the tightest perimeter, cutting off the neck, hair, and sometimes part of the outer ears. In the end, what you end up with is a picture that eliminates much of what we normally depend upon to identify the individual.

Deleporte does not exhibit these portraits, however, but rather the blowups of the croppings: wisps of hair, a creased neck, and nervously held shoulders all surround a blank white space where the face used to be—poetic remnants of a now absent individual. The slicing is evidently done quickly, as the cuts are crooked and sloppy. In

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