



Two rearing horses—one rendered in a velvety black, the other in luminous silver—lock into a suspended, almost theatrical confrontation, their mirrored gestures turning conflict into choreography. Against a weathered field of ochres and smoky grays, the paint’s scumbled layers read like sedimented time, while the stark red disc hovers as a charged sun or seal, intensifying the scene’s sense of ritual and fate. Light is treated not as illumination but as temperament: it clings to the white horse in cold highlights and absorbs into the black form, suggesting opposing wills that are inseparable. The work becomes an emblem of duality—shadow and clarity, restraint and surge—played out in a space where history, instinct, and symbol collide.







