Since the dawn of civilization, the human body has been both a symbol and a vessel, a universal language of strength, vulnerability, and identity. Throughout history, cultures around the world have celebrated, idealized, and deconstructed the human form, often embracing its fragments as powerful storytellers of survival.
In prehistoric Europe, figurines like the Venus of Willendorf honored the female body as a source of life and resilience, many surviving only as fragments yet retaining their profound meaning. In classical Greece and Rome, sculptors pursued ideal proportions, but today we often encounter these works as headless, limbless marbles, testaments to time’s ability to shatter even our highest ideals.
The Renaissance rediscovered these ancient ruins, finding inspiration in broken statues and unfinished forms. Michelangelo’s Slaves, figures emerging from raw stone, symbolized the struggle to break free, to become whole. Later, modern artists like Picasso and Giacometti shattered the human figure entirely, using fragmentation to capture the complexities of emotion, trauma, and the human condition.
Non-Western traditions have also embraced the beauty of the broken. In Japan, kintsugi repairs cracked ceramics with gold, highlighting rather than hiding their fractures. African nkisi figures are embedded with nails and shards, marks of power, pain, and healing. These practices remind me that wholeness can exist even through parts.
My Fragmentia sculptures belong to this timeless conversation. They were born from an unexpected moment during a photo shoot, when one of my pieces fell apart. In that instant, I saw the poetry in pieces and began to explore how women, in particular, rebuild themselves through life’s fractures. By creating sculptures with removable busts, torsos, and hips, I invite viewers to participate in the act of reassembly, reflecting how identity is shaped by experience, resilience, and reinvention.
Just as ancient fragments endure, whispering stories across millennia, my Fragmentia sculptures speak to the power of becoming whole again and again, and to the beauty and complexity that arise through the process of mending.
-Marcela
References:
Truesdell, Nathan. The Venus of Willendorf: Symbol of Fertility. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Boardman, John. Greek Sculpture: The Classical Period. Thames & Hudson, 1985.
Mattusch, Carol C. Classical Bronzes: The Art and Craft of Greek and Roman Statuary. Cornell University Press, 1996.
Wallace, William E. Michelangelo: The Artist, the Man, and His Times. Cambridge University Press, 2010.
“Michelangelo’s Captives (or Slaves).” Galleria dell'Accademia, Florence.
Richardson, John. A Life of Picasso. Knopf.
Sylvester, David. Looking at Giacometti. Henry Holt and Co., 1996.
Juniper, Andrew. Wabi Sabi: The Japanese Art of Impermanence. Tuttle Publishing, 2003.
“Kintsugi: The Art of Embracing Damage.” BBC Culture.
MacGaffey, Wyatt. Astonishment and Power: The Eyes of Understanding in African Art. Smithsonian Institution Press, 1993.
“Nkisi Nkondi Power Figures.” Brooklyn Museum.