This body of works, revisits and reimagines female mythological figures, translating them into the language of the present. By transforming these ancient archetypes—many of which have historically reflected or reinforced the oppression of women—I seek to question how much our perception of femininity has truly evolved. Myths are living narratives that have long shaped collective imagination; by reworking them, I aim to expose how certain symbolic structures persist beneath the surface of contemporary culture, and how they continue to act upon women’s bodies today.
The works in this series unfold as acts of reinterpretation and resistance. Through new gestures and materials, they propose alternative readings of the female figure—neither idealized nor victimized, but complex, autonomous, and in transformation. The technique of embossing aluminum plays a central role in this approach. I am drawn to it not only for its visual and tactile qualities but for its metaphorical power: it reshapes matter through pressure and resistance, without adding or removing anything. In that sense, it mirrors the process of working with myth—pressing against inherited forms to find new meanings. Aluminum’s reflective surface also turns each piece into a participatory space, where the viewer’s own image merges with the work, suggesting that these ancient stories still concern us, still reflect us.
In Uncertain Place (2024), the figure of Hestia—the Greek goddess of the hearth and home—appears outside the burning house that once defined her. Traditionally associated with domestic order and the sacred fire, Hestia is here depicted sitting calmly while her home collapses behind her. This inversion transforms her role: she is no longer the guardian of domestic stability but the woman who dares to abandon it. The fire becomes a metaphor for the destruction of imposed structures—the “domus” as a patriarchal construct that has confined women to care, service, and silence. Hestia’s distance from the flames speaks of emancipation: the uncertain place she now occupies is both dangerous and liberating, a territory without rules where new ways of being can emerge.
The small work Flower Crown (2024) extends this reflection. Its title refers to ancient Mediterranean rituals in which donkeys were crowned with flowers as offerings to Hestia. The story recalls a myth in which Priapus (who is traditionally represented with an enormous, permanently erect phallus), during a feast, attempts to rape the goddess, but the braying of a donkey wakes her just in time. In my interpretation, this episode becomes an allegory of alertness and resistance—the moment when awareness interrupts violence. The crown of flowers, both delicate and protective, becomes a symbol of survival, and of the ironic distance between reverence and violation in the treatment of female divinity.
Gray Area (2024) turns to the figure of the water nymph, mythological beings suspended between divinity and humanity, beauty and danger. Historically, these figures embodied the patriarchal anxiety toward women’s freedom and desire: the “femme fatale” as a warning against female autonomy. In my version, the nymphs no longer seduce or threaten; they share an everyday intimacy. Gathered in a pond, surrounded by lilies, they smoke, drink, and laugh together. Their pleasure is communal, their presence relaxed and unapologetic. The ambiguity remains—but now it speaks of solidarity rather than sin. The “gray area” is the space between expectation and freedom, where the boundaries of femininity dissolve and reform.
Finally, The Right Time (2024) reinterprets Artemis, goddess of the hunt and protector of animals. Traditionally depicted as an emblem of independence and purity, she appears here in a state of transformation. A dog and a deer stand beside her, each connected by leashes—but their bodies have exchanged parts: Artemis bears a paw, the dog a human hand, and the deer a human foot. This hybridization suggests an intimate bond that erases hierarchies between the human and the animal. From an ecofeminist perspective, the piece addresses the shared domestication of women and nature under systems of control. By merging forms, Artemis and her companions reclaim a collective agency: they resist not as isolated beings, but as a single, interconnected force. The title evokes the sense that a moment of change has arrived—the “right time” to confront domination and recover balance.
Throughout this series, myth operates as both material and metaphor. Like embossed metal, it is reshaped through tension and reflection, carrying the traces of pressure and transformation. These figures—Hestia, the nymphs, Artemis—no longer inhabit the world as static symbols of virtue or danger. They return to us altered, alive, and unsettling, asking what remains of their stories within us, and how we might rewrite them today.