In her lush photographic scenes flowers take centre stage. Smulders construct her floral still lives on a big mirror, using hand blown glass objects designed by herself, carefully arranged on rich draperies of silk from travels to India. The blooms and sculptures seem to float on water which invisible hands gently set in motion, and we catch a glimpse of unblemished naked women’s bodies among the lush foliage. Smulders deliberately select imperfect tulips from the grower that are not flawless enough to be sold in florists – always suggesting an unattainable moment of stasis before decay and rot set in.