‘Memorial For Unborn Children’ – Martin Hudacek 

  
I saw a photo of this before leaving for New York. It stirred something within me. 

It is a sculpture by a young Slovakian sculptor; he completed it as a major work for his degree using live models and a variety of materials. It took him ten months. Interesting; the gestation of a child. Irony. 

Some reports suggest that it was created to convey the grief that women who abort experience, and this sculpture shows the aborted child in an act of forgiveness. I think that this highlights the many layers of meaning that art evokes. What one work suggests for one person can be completely different for another. 

And that is okay. 

It is a similar scenario for poetry. 

We all bring our own contexts to any interpretation of art or literature, and in life. 

For me, this sculpture captures the grief of my miscarriage and inability to carry a child. It also captures an experience I had throughout my IVF journey. 

Mid way through my journey I started seeing a little girl with blonde hair. She would speak to me. I knew she was my unborn child. You may think I am crazy. 

So did I. 

Until a friend saw her too. 

Now obviously, if you believe in the spirit world you will accept this. If you don’t, you will think the drugs of IVF impacted in a bizarre way. I’m okay with that. My experience is my experience, and she gave me hope and provided comfort during times I didn’t have any. 

I love art. 

I love the emotion it is capable of expressing. In the many layers of meaning. And that there is no right or wrong way. The way it can force us to confront the realities of our world, and its shortcomings. 

  
The way it can inspire, calm, influence, speak for us. Move us. Force us to stop. 

And just, 

                  be.

   
    
    
   
   
Yes, art speaks. 

 

3 thoughts on “‘Memorial For Unborn Children’ – Martin Hudacek 

  1. Wow, that piece of art even experienced just through a photo is very powerful. To me it is a child saying, “I am with you”. I also get the feeling that even through your darkest hour there is always hope. As you said, art is like poetry, everyone takes something different from it. Like you I think my interpretation is closely linked to my infertility. In saying that sometimes when art or poetry throws something hard in your face your instinct is to dislike it and I don’t feel that way, I think this piece is beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

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