With Endtime Fantasies, Emely Majrell confronts the visual language of the apocalypse not as prophecy, but as projection—an emotional and cultural mirror. Her photomontages are dense, unsettling, and meticulously constructed: layered surfaces that fuse personal memory with collective trauma. Each image is marked by a chapter of the Book of Revelation, but these are not illustrations—they are visual echoes of myth, filtered through a contemporary lens.

Majrell’s technique draws from early photographic traditions—pictorialism’s moody textures and dadaism’s sharp juxtapositions—but it’s her conceptual framework that makes the work urgent. In an age haunted by ecological collapse and social unrest, her images ask not just what the end looks like, but why we need to imagine it.

The figures she depicts—masked soldiers, veiled women, skeletal remains—are symbols rather than subjects. They emerge from shadow and decay, surrounded by remnants of modern life and debris of forgotten narratives. Text fragments from Revelation add a prophetic rhythm, while the visual layering suggests that every vision of doom is also a palimpsest of longing.

In Endtime Fantasies, the apocalypse is not simply an end. It’s a psychological landscape, a cultural reflex, a call for rebirth. Majrell doesn’t offer closure—she offers confrontation. And within that, a flicker of transformation.

Vanessa Rusci,
curator of the magazine

Project

Endtime Fantasies is a visual meditation on the apocalypse—its fears, myths, and the desire for transformation that often lies beneath. In a time overshadowed by war, environmental disaster, and societal unrest, the project investigates how apocalyptic imagery functions as both personal and collective reflection.

The works merge personal photographs, media images, religious symbolism, and visual references from art history—particularly inspired by pictorialism and dadaism. Each photomontage is linked to the Book of Revelation, with chapter numbers (and sometimes verses) integrated into the compositions. These references create a visual and narrative thread, while also inviting theological reflection and critique.

Rather than propose a single vision, the series opens space for interpretation. It asks: What do we fear? What do we hope for? And how does imagining an end reshape our understanding of the present?

Artist statement