A nexus is either a series of connections linking together many things, or else it is the central and most important of those things. Taken as the title of an artist book by Sonja Thomsen, it could mean both. In her series of photographs, Thomsen interlaces blissfully barren snowy landscapes with a modestly set breakfast table, a child roaming in a pine forest, the Northern Lights, bubbles afloat in the air, a horse grazing in a flowery meadow, a baby’s tousled white-blonde hair, freshly sliced watermelon on a countertop, a streetlamp reflected in a puddle. Some images immediately register as either banal or wondrous, but as the series progresses such distinctions become less clear. Bubbles are a common natural phenomena but also undeniably magical. Cheese, jam, some bread and a newspaper feel basic but also sometimes blissful. And how is it exactly that a streetlight can find its way into a small pool of water collected on uneven paving stones? It isn’t happenstance that caused Thomsen to bind her book with reflective mylar—it’s that it reflects rainbows at every turn. There may be no better example of a marvelous thing than that: science explained its existence long ago, and yet it continues to instill wonder.
—Lori Waxman 5/31/13 5:06 PM
