The last whisper

For this project, the logic was to begin with a very simple symbol — the butterfly as an image of beauty, fragility, and ephemeral life — and then gradually allow its materiality to contaminate the entire visual universe.
We started by looking at the wing almost as a raw material: scales, veins, translucent membranes, powder, fine ridges, iridescence. Rather than simply depicting butterflies, we extracted their textures and transposed them elsewhere: into headdresses, collars, dresses, then into the human body itself, and finally into the surrounding environment.
We then introduced the idea of metamorphosis. The human body is no longer simply dressed in this material; it begins to be transformed by it. Wings emerge, surfaces break down, membranes tear, and forms dissolve into dust or pigment. The intention was for the butterfly material to become more than decorative — almost biological.
The landscape follows the same logic. Trees become covered in butterflies, while certain textures spread into the bark, the ground, the flowers, and even the atmosphere. This creates a world in which the boundaries between human, insect, and landscape become increasingly difficult to define.
We also deliberately maintained a strong tension between grace and unease. The poses remain elegant, slow, almost ceremonial, while the materials become unstable, powdery, torn, wet, or in the process of disappearing. This contrast gives the project its unsettling quality without turning it into overt horror.
Finally, the human presence gives greater weight to the idea of impermanence. The butterfly alone already evokes fragility, but by bringing the human body into this cycle of metamorphosis, disappearance, and decay, that fragility becomes more dramatic and emotionally charged.