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In Brunkebergstorg, stands Bianca proudly pink and curvy. She contrasts against the blocked, dark-coloured structures around her. It’s an inappropriate display in broad daylight that sparks a tension in this crowd, because Bianca’s purpose is to normalize discussion in what we have deemed as not suitable for the public domain. It is no coincidence that she stands where she is, just meters away from Malmskillnadsgatan, a street used by sex-workers.


The amorphous structure seemingly repels negative energy, yet the combination of shapes is suggestive, sensual, and even seductive - a type of imagery ranging from familiar to unknown creature.


Consisting of prefabricated concrete spheres, a highly textured plaster covers her exterior in a glossy finish. Unlike the exterior, Bianca is closer to soft or sweet on the inside. These round shapes house a safe space one that is warm and comforting inside - like a mother’s embrace. A continuous monochromatic interior bathes you in shades of red. Inside, there is an examination room, a consultation space, and a bathroom. The textured plaster finish from the exterior is replicated inside across the whole space, to give the impression of a womb.

Bianca represents the abject, a section of cute that has a unique and under-represented aesthetic. It is what happens when the cute, typically harmless and docile, becomes uncomfortable and bad, but might not necessarily be malicious. It is grotesque yet intriguing - you can’t help but want to know more, even though you despise doing so. This is why the grotesque and the abject, are closer to the feminine, because of centuries long depictions of the female body. It’s the paradox we experience, when sex is seen to be dirty and shameful, yet the birth of life as the purest of humanity.

Location: Stockholm, Sweden

Instructor: Ulrika Karlsson, Cecilia Lundbäck

Programme: Masters Thesis

Year: 2021​


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