

This composition stages a quiet dialogue between mechanism and multitude: a gramophone-like form broadcasts into a clustered chorus of faceless profiles, as if sound were being manufactured and then absorbed by collective identity. The fractured planes of teal, ochre, and rust feel both playful and bruised, their layered transparency suggesting memory, propaganda, or messages repeatedly overwritten. Numbers and stray glyphs drift like coded residue across the surface, turning the background into an archive where individuality is tallied, filed, and gently erased. In the compressed space between the speaker’s mouth and the crowd’s silence, the work meditates on how culture is transmitted—who speaks, who listens, and what is lost in translation.







