Holy Queue

Swathed in a fevered monochrome of ochre and shadow, the clustered figures become less individuals than a single organism of fear, pressed together by an unseen force. The blindfolds—rendered as thick, tactile bands—convert faces into mute surfaces, turning sight into absence and amplifying every fold of cloth into a metaphor for imposed silence. Compressed framing and the knot of interlocked arms create a claustrophobic rhythm, where touch replaces vision and intimacy is indistinguishable from captivity. The work lingers as a meditation on vulnerability under collective strain, suggesting how protection and coercion can share the same warm, suffocating light.