"A sheet of plastic is softened in warm water.
The patient is on bed as the nurse applies the warm plastic over head, face and down over shoulders.
With fingers the nurse gently models the sheet into a personal mask, the opening is made for personal comfort.
Marks are made to help make settings as exact as possible.
In treatment the mask secures the patient in the same position evertime.
Securing the patient's position makes radiation treatment more accurate, helping to avoid harm surrounding healthy tissue.
Most patients go for treatment every day over a period of time. (...)
The masks lay on the shelves. Side by side, facing outwards. As if there was a body behind them. With arms, torso and legs stretching through the wall.
I saw them at the hospital radiotherapy ward and had the feeling of finding myself in a catacomb or mausoleum.
The masks were personal, but at the same time anonymous. I could gather neither gender, age nor body shape. Their facial expressions fascinated me.
I thought of death masks, a cast made of a person's face made after death, which becomes a memory of that person.
But these masks are life masks of people who have chosen life, chosen treatment, without knowing if it will be enough.
Many years ago, I worled at the hospital's intensive care department and witnessed how every trauma touched a lot of people. People were affected as though by a wave rippling from the affected person: husband, wife, children, family, relatives, friends, co-workers and further on into wider society.
I felt I saw the ongoing trauma in the expressions of the masks." (Magnus WESTERBORN)
The patient is on bed as the nurse applies the warm plastic over head, face and down over shoulders.
With fingers the nurse gently models the sheet into a personal mask, the opening is made for personal comfort.
Marks are made to help make settings as exact as possible.
In treatment the mask secures the patient in the same position evertime.
Securing the patient's position makes radiation treatment more accurate, helping to avoid harm surrounding healthy tissue.
Most patients go for treatment every day over a period of time. (...)
The masks lay on the shelves. Side by side, facing outwards. As if there was a body behind them. With arms, torso and legs stretching through the wall.
I saw them at the hospital radiotherapy ward and had the feeling of finding myself in a catacomb or mausoleum.
The masks were personal, but at the same time anonymous. I could gather neither gender, age nor body shape. Their facial expressions fascinated me.
I thought of death masks, a cast made of a person's face made after death, which becomes a memory of that person.
But these masks are life masks of people who have chosen life, chosen treatment, without knowing if it will be enough.
Many years ago, I worled at the hospital's intensive care department and witnessed how every trauma touched a lot of people. People were affected as though by a wave rippling from the affected person: husband, wife, children, family, relatives, friends, co-workers and further on into wider society.
I felt I saw the ongoing trauma in the expressions of the masks." (Magnus WESTERBORN)
- Ed(s)/Author(s)
- Howard Bossen
- Book design
- Grafiskt & Form
- Format
- Cloth bound HC (no dust jacket, as issued), approx. 30 x 28 x 2 cm., o.pp., b/w ills., bilingual: Swedish / English, Ltd. to 500 copies