



This still life orchestrates domestic vessels into a fractured theatre of planes and outlines, where familiar forms—pitchers, bowls, a bulbous gourd—are repeatedly reassembled as if memory were cutting and splicing the scene. Cool blues and ash greys glide against ochre and olive blocks, creating a light that feels less observed than constructed, like a calm interior held together by design rather than sunlight. The dense overlap of silhouettes turns utility into symbolism: containers become metaphors for withholding and offering, for the quiet intimacy of things that “hold” our daily lives while remaining partially unreadable. In that tension between decorative pattern and cubist dislocation, the work suggests a hidden narrative—an order on the brink of splintering, yet insistently composed.







