Whether personal or public, we are all confronted with loss. For me, the mannequin became a universal symbol. These early 20c wax heads appeared so real, with their glass eyes and real tufts of hair, that I began to think of them as human, of having had a life which had now abruptly ended.
As a photographer, I was witness to their existence. These images became personal statements about the Holocaust, a surrogate for all the women who were lost in the camps. The haunting beauty of their faces gave me more conviction that their lives had been cut short.