The New Yorker Back to press
Heyert's nearly life-size black-and-white prints are voyeuristic portraits of people engaged in the typical private act of sleeping. Isolated on a stark black background, each sleeping subject and unconscious gesture seems primed for Dr. Rorschach. Some couples are entwined in what could be the fetal embrace of twins, others don't touch and seem alone in the midst of their togetherness. Single sleepers appear to be floating, paused in the midst of a languid jig or pirouette, poised with confident nonchalance or vulnerable and lost. Heyert then projected these images onto ancient Sicilian ruins and rephotographed them. The resulting flesh - multi-toned swirls of speckled, cracked stone - conjures thoughts of human fragility and impermanence even if the sleepers have become heroic sculptures rising from a deep slumber.