Darya Abramova
BCa
The shape of the sculpture is inspired by the outline of a tumor reconstructed from a CT scan of a woman’s breast. Milk flows along a closed contour. The soundscape is generated based on the genetic code of the BRCA1/BRCA2 genes used in tests for breast cancer predisposition.
This work is an exploration of the experience of hormone therapy for breast cancer patients and how treatment alters a woman’s sense of her own body. Many describe this process as a partial loss of self. While the body continues to live, it ceases to be recognizable as “one’s own”. This remains a sensitive topic that is rarely discussed in a medical context, in private conversations, or in public discourse. The installation makes these invisible changes tangible, translating them into the movement of fluid in combination with sound and material forms.
There is no single interpretation or easy answer for this installation. The space remains open to every person’s individual experiences of fear, recognition, and empathy. The sculpture, the milk, and the sound speak to a vulnerability we all share, regardless of our diagnosis: how our body, our understanding of risks, and our emotional memory intertwine into a single, yet fragile, experience.
BCa
The shape of the sculpture is inspired by the outline of a tumor reconstructed from a CT scan of a woman’s breast. Milk flows along a closed contour. The soundscape is generated based on the genetic code of the BRCA1/BRCA2 genes used in tests for breast cancer predisposition.
This work is an exploration of the experience of hormone therapy for breast cancer patients and how treatment alters a woman’s sense of her own body. Many describe this process as a partial loss of self. While the body continues to live, it ceases to be recognizable as “one’s own”. This remains a sensitive topic that is rarely discussed in a medical context, in private conversations, or in public discourse. The installation makes these invisible changes tangible, translating them into the movement of fluid in combination with sound and material forms.
There is no single interpretation or easy answer for this installation. The space remains open to every person’s individual experiences of fear, recognition, and empathy. The sculpture, the milk, and the sound speak to a vulnerability we all share, regardless of our diagnosis: how our body, our understanding of risks, and our emotional memory intertwine into a single, yet fragile, experience.