Photographic Alphabet: M is for Yael Malka
My work inquires about how we see and know others, and how we reveal ourselves to strangers, lovers, and friends. In “Almost Touching,” slick black polyethylene becomes a torso and a cosmetic face mask melds with a face, while the body loses its humanness: hands are severed, faces are missing, and the texture of skin is submerged in color and shadow. To me, these images mirror the logic of getting to know others. So often, we say the opposite of what we mean and truth emerges from the margins. Just as plastic can seem more vulnerable than skin, an internet search history or a to-do list might expose more than a diary.
Though “Almost Touching” is a body of work that strives for intimacy, it offers only clues and intimations: disembodied limbs, unmet gazes, and mute objects that are trying to speak. But you don’t need to meet a person’s eyes to know something about them—anonymity does not render a body inexpressive, and objects are seldom mute when seen in context. Even what's concealed can be telling: with faces missing, a collection of gesturing hands can evoke threat, pleasure, strangeness, and familiarity. "Almost Touching" gives shape to a mysterious and potent intuition about our relationships to others: vulnerability rarely comes in the form of a declaration—rather, it lurks around the edges of false confession. Intimacy emerges from the interplay of what is shown and what is concealed.