The Vietnam-based visual artist Anna Tsvell tells a tale of nature as seen through diffuse light and gritty shadows. “Everyone should know that the trees are dancing at night,” she says, in a bold attempt to personify the vegetation.
Tsvell exposes the bare bones of the forest as if through an X-ray scan, dissecting the Earth-piercing roots with the clinical approach of a medieval plague doctor who studies cadavers to see what makes them tick.
Tsvell has a clear vision for her portfolio. Even though she presents nature in a very dark, almost occult way, it does not read as hostile but as hauntingly inviting. Through negatives and mandala-like compositions, the artist is able to extract the essence of mysterious allure that forests always had for humankind.
“Trees are dancing at night” is not only a dark, melancholy-infused visual series that captures what trees do when no one is watching, but also a philosophical, unanswered reflection on nature’s secular existence and its role as a cradle for other beings.
Read our “Camouflage” issue in full
RAWGUE.’s 4th issue delved into the grey, moody, and cold atmosphere of winter. Yet it did not sink into the depths of madness or depression. Instead, it embraced this season of hibernation, allowing 31 artists from all over the world to present their timid work beneath a veil of quiet beauty.
We’re a team of writers using our craft to spotlight art in its most honest form. RAWGUE. started as a bi-monthly editorial experiment where each issue’s theme is dictated by the submitted work, thus removing editorial bias from the equation and preserving a more raw approach. We focus on all forms of poetry: written, photographed, painted, drawn, and filmed.
