Flora Spielrein is a child of nature from wild mountains. Her fairy beauty is reminiscent of Botticelli’s Flora, when mischievous playfulness and dreamy melancholy oscillate in her elfin gaze.
The most extraordinary thing in the sophisticated world is naturalness. From our noisy, dusty cities we long for virgin springs and meadow dew. When this lost purity is embodied in the nature of a young woman, the wicked world is gripped by an irresistible desire. A desire for healing and destruction in equal measure: just as a grove of freshly fallen snow invites you to mark its untouchedness with traces. Flora was lured away from the meadows of her childhood to the big cities at an early age. As a muse and model for an avant-garde artist scene, she came into strong contact with the world of glamour. Despite all the excesses her young body had to endure, something about her remained as pure as the untouched snow. The shyness and tender shyness that she never lost is not coquetry. She is touched by that innate politeness, the inner decency of a truly graceful soul. Nothing is more attractive than integrity in a corrupt world.
Flora Spielrein about herself.
It’s a magical moment when the puppeteer’s puppets come to life. As a child, could you have sworn that your toys had a secret life of their own? That they only pretend to be dead, lifeless things, when in reality they are living, thinking and looking at us?
Maybe I’m the exception with this fantasy after all. I was always one of those pretty toys that was admired and desired. As a model, I allowed my body to be presented as an object. I was the beautiful trophy of geniuses and madmen. They kept looking at me. And I – looked out from within myself, lurking hidden in this figure they thought I was. Until I gave up modeling to be an artist myself. It is a magical moment in a woman’s life when she frees herself from her passivity. When she goes from object of desire to subject. An artist who loves women more than men. An artist with her own, very surprising views. For example about beauty. I am primarily interested in beauty as the beauty of ugliness. I love the imperfect, the broken. I want to penetrate beneath the smooth surface to find love, pain and tenderness. As a child, I looked for a long time at the sun-drenched mirror of the mountain lake and wondered what secret depths lay beneath this glare.