
Don't Worry Darling
2023
Edition of 12
Archival Pigment Print
140 x 132 cm
Edition of 12
190 x 180 cm
Edition of 12
View more artworks by David Yarrow
About the work
Don't Worry Darling
Nestled in the Coachella Valley of California, the desert resort of Palm
Springs is not just a town, it is seen by some as a metaphor for how
to live life. Its mere name evokes imagery of Slim Aarons pool parties,
retro styling and endless vapid leisure. Hollywood found a sister
location in this resort and was drawn to its shared values of celebrity,
health, new wealth and sex. Like filmmakers before me, I homed in
on 1950s styling as I sensed that this was the era that defined the
post-war growth of the resort. I had the Ferrari and the police cars,
and from the first day of scouting in Palm Springs, we knew our street
location and our timing of roughly one hour after sunrise. Our lead
was the celebrated Alessandra Ambrosia, the super-smart Brazilian
model who can play any role ascribed to her. Who knows who is being
arrested in the background, but it doesn’t look like it’s particularly
interfering with her morning.
This photograph is deliberately saturated in colour to evoke the
gauzy, saccharine pleasures of the town. Is it really paradise or is it a
parody of itself?
Springs is not just a town, it is seen by some as a metaphor for how
to live life. Its mere name evokes imagery of Slim Aarons pool parties,
retro styling and endless vapid leisure. Hollywood found a sister
location in this resort and was drawn to its shared values of celebrity,
health, new wealth and sex. Like filmmakers before me, I homed in
on 1950s styling as I sensed that this was the era that defined the
post-war growth of the resort. I had the Ferrari and the police cars,
and from the first day of scouting in Palm Springs, we knew our street
location and our timing of roughly one hour after sunrise. Our lead
was the celebrated Alessandra Ambrosia, the super-smart Brazilian
model who can play any role ascribed to her. Who knows who is being
arrested in the background, but it doesn’t look like it’s particularly
interfering with her morning.
This photograph is deliberately saturated in colour to evoke the
gauzy, saccharine pleasures of the town. Is it really paradise or is it a
parody of itself?