


A long bare concrete corridor, the left half of the frame a blank shadowed wall. She stands two thirds of the way down it, over to the right, dark against a wide open doorway full of white sky with a bright rim down one side. Her garment is clear running water cut as a long gown: a straight neckline, a waist seam, and above that seam it holds its shape on her - but at the small of her back it stops holding and becomes a wide train that pours away behind her, a moving sheet splitting into ropes and threads and separate drops, running the whole length of the corridor toward the camera as one long diagonal down the picture. The concrete carries a dark wet trail behind her, the doorway sill is running, drops come off the hand she holds the train with, and a flat pool has spread across the floor nearest the camera. The last two metres of the train fill the bottom third of the frame, close and out of focus, and there is nothing else in the foreground. Her head is turned back over her shoulder to look at it, her brows drawn slightly together. Camera at knee height. Backlit, single source through the doorway, high contrast, so the train glows white and the walls go black. She is sharp, the near train blurred. Her wet dark auburn hair is pushed back off her face. Everything else in one narrow range of pale stone, wet plaster and grey linen; her skin and the water are the only bright things in the picture. Matte surfaces, no polish. Fine 35mm film grain. In the lower right corner, a large pencil signature in looping script, clearly visible: Ziggy






