

A row of squat, earthen figures sits in a chorus of exaggerated expressions—mouths agape, eyes sealed, faces tipped back as if caught between prayer, laughter, and lament. By turning the human head into both instrument and offering—held, cradled, or “played” like a percussion surface—the work stages identity as something performed, exchanged, and momentarily detachable. The muted clay palette and blunt, frontal presentation lend the tableau a folk-humor immediacy, yet the repetition of poses reads like a ritual cycle, where voice becomes an object and emotion a carved mask. In their uneasy tenderness toward these severed likenesses, the sculptures suggest how society rehearses feeling: amplifying it, softening it, and sometimes using it as accompaniment.







