Charline von Heyl’s edition is a linocut titled
Girl. The motif is rendered by black contours on a bicolor
background printed using the “rainbow” technique: the relatively
aggressive pink of the upper third blends with the cerebral yellow
rising from the bottom in a gradient of orange hues that aligns with the
motif’s bipartite organization. Structured by the black lines of the
linocut, the print’s bottom half shows a face head-on, the hair parted
at the center of the picture, its symmetrical wavy lines extending out
to the black frame. Reminiscent of both art-nouveau designs and
psychedelia, von Heyl’s decorative line pattern doubles the incongruence
between title and motif: von Heyl's Girl, appearing here as lion.
Long an important benchmark in the discourse on painting in the pages of this journal, von Heyl’s art returns, with this edition, to printmaking — a form with which it is often associated. Yet, here, it is less the means of visual production that the communicative limits of image and word that are subject to strange metamorphotic displacement. In turn, von Heyl opens up a space of alternate interrelations and transferences of meaning: a new kind of girl power gazing at us with unblinking, possibly sinister eyes.