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Desk of Death. The desk of an amateur taxidermist: photo by Tup Wanders, 3 February 2006
The performance may not go according to plan: If the forbidden presence appears in the church “I will have to stop,” she said.
The identity of this person remains as enigmatic as the smile on the face of the giant stuffed giraffe looking over her shoulder as she speaks. The giraffe, she says, is her mother, who looks down on her “with irony and sadness” from the whitewashed wall.
Beside the giraffe, Ms. Calle’s other taxidermized roommates include a baby zebra, a monkey curled on a couch, a lounging tiger, crowned and sporting a giant colored-glass necklace, and two pink flamingos named after her friends the ceramic sculptor Johan Creten and the glass sculptor Jean-Michel Othoniel.
“All these objects represent memories: I have such a bad memory,” she said.
“I don’t describe or define what I do,” she said. “I let people like you do that.”
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