In Fig we see a young girl, naked, pregnant; and a young man, also naked. Sometimes they are together, sometimes apart. They sit or stand with downcast eyes, but occasionally exchange a glance that may suggest complicity or perhaps great apprehension. Nothing really happens. Everything has happened or is about to happen, and the picture space seems alternately full of memory, and charged with potentiality. The figures are at once immensely weighted and strangely insubstantial; skin texture dissolves into film texture, and the most solid body may suddenly become a ghostly presence passing like a shadow out of a scene.
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