Quarantine (Confined Heart)

Set within a diamond-framed arena of stormy greys and jaundiced checks, the scene stages a bleak theatre where the body is reduced to apparatus—one figure ribbed like a specimen, jaw agape, another heart suspended in glass as if preserved for inspection rather than feeling. The taut lines of wire, frames, and stacked platforms choreograph a cold, mechanical perspective, turning space into an instrument of control while the few eruptions of red read as both vitality and alarm. Between the caged throat and the bottled organ, the work suggests a civilization that ventilates its anxieties through systems—cataloguing desire, quarantining tenderness, and calling it order.