"I give Cindy Sherman the once-over. Then the twice- and thrice-over. I know I'm staring more than is right but I can't help myself. I'm looking for clues. Sherman is one of the world's leading artists – for 30 years, she has starred in all her photographs – and yet the more we see of her, the less recognisable she is."
- Cindy Sherman: Me, Myself & I, Simon Hattenstone, The Guardian
A performance so neatly calibrated it is hard not to think of it as just another installment in the ongoing fiction she has created, the business of being Cindy Sherman. But it is done so adroitly, with so much faithfulness to the illusion and all the details just right, that we don’t really feel cheated, rather we are complicit in our own deception. I don’t know if she even exists in any sense as the character portrayed here, and somehow I doubt it, but the tearful confession that she is “on a break” from her relationship with David Byrne, along with a description of her outrageously bigoted father and some other choice revelations, are so finely worked as to sit alongside the best of her photographs.
Read it for yourself here.
