The Brooklyn Rail

Here, Omar Kholeif invited Sarkissian to reflect on a body of work that he has not shared publicly. Known for scarcely revealing the likeness of the body in his work, Sarkissian at first described this work as akin to nature’s automatic purge, a June drop, a wind fall, or rather a transparency, a necessary composition that paved the way for his next twenty years. Below, he offers readers a brief reflection.

This body of work was made in 2003.
It has been hidden since then—never seen the light of day.
I treasured these pictures for all this time. I kept them, a secret, waiting for better days to come.

For me, they were intimate places embedded with secret feelings.
For unknown reasons, at least unknown at the time, my eyes—the lens, surfaced on these bodyscapes.

Discovering these sensitive surfaces—growing closer to concrete living bodies was a new sensation for me to experience. It brought me to the realization as to how tender and fragile they could be.

These dwellings turned into sites of refuge for me, ones to escape or be wrapped up in when experiencing great pain or when feeling under extreme pressure.

Looking back at these valleys, hills, and mountainous forms spread across the edges of the image, it transpires to me that they held and projected much more pain than the soothing rays that I had once imagined.

What do you see?