BY MADS BAJARIAS | The fascinating thing about Don Djerassi Dalmacio's "Hollow Man" exhibited at blanc is how it grows on the viewer. That I didn't realize right away that it was a skull made the impact all the more forceful. What with all the rubbish ephemera that we surround ourselves with, I guess it's good to be reminded once in a while about what awaits us all in the end (no, not a hot bath). The hyper-commodified culture is so tied with youth-worship and shiny happy people that oftentimes we forget that the grave awaits. Nowadays, skull images form some sort of cutesy background pattern and adorn everything from tough guy decal tats to pink school bags for kids. Skull images have become sort of Hello Kittenized. Death's head as kawaii. Dalamacio avoids that—his memento mori isn't puerile. It doesn't try to dazzle or joke around. There is no facile posturing or over-the-top preaching. It just appears slowly out of the debris to observe us. We are in its über-cool grip.
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