Description
Collage materials, glitter, tissue paper, acrylic and oil paint, on canvas. 21"x19" Framed
Made in 2025. This mixed media painting presents a portrait that hovers between serenity and disturbance, its subject rendered in soft, muted tones against a storm of gestural color. The face, eyes closed, drifts into stillness, as if caught in reflection or refusal. Around it, strokes of orange, green, blue, and black churn restlessly, their layered energy pressing against the figure’s calm interior world.
Unlike The Convict, whose fragmented features wrestle with exposure and judgment, The Witness seems to embody silence—an observer present but unspoken. A circular mark, almost like a lens or spotlight, intersects the portrait, suggesting scrutiny, testimony, or the act of being seen. Yet the closed eyes resist, denying full access, refusing to yield their truth.
The tension between the vulnerable face and the chaotic, almost explosive abstraction surrounding it speaks to the instability of memory and perception. Witnessing becomes not a neutral act, but one shaped by distortion, pressure, and interpretation.
Together with The Convict, this piece examines how identity and narrative are shaped by power: the judged and the judge, the accused and the observer, both caught in systems that fracture and redefine their humanity. In its layering of marks, gestures, and absences, The Witness insists that silence can hold as much meaning as testimony.
Description
Collage materials, glitter, tissue paper, acrylic and oil paint, on canvas. 21"x19" Framed
Made in 2025. This mixed media painting presents a portrait that hovers between serenity and disturbance, its subject rendered in soft, muted tones against a storm of gestural color. The face, eyes closed, drifts into stillness, as if caught in reflection or refusal. Around it, strokes of orange, green, blue, and black churn restlessly, their layered energy pressing against the figure’s calm interior world.
Unlike The Convict, whose fragmented features wrestle with exposure and judgment, The Witness seems to embody silence—an observer present but unspoken. A circular mark, almost like a lens or spotlight, intersects the portrait, suggesting scrutiny, testimony, or the act of being seen. Yet the closed eyes resist, denying full access, refusing to yield their truth.
The tension between the vulnerable face and the chaotic, almost explosive abstraction surrounding it speaks to the instability of memory and perception. Witnessing becomes not a neutral act, but one shaped by distortion, pressure, and interpretation.
Together with The Convict, this piece examines how identity and narrative are shaped by power: the judged and the judge, the accused and the observer, both caught in systems that fracture and redefine their humanity. In its layering of marks, gestures, and absences, The Witness insists that silence can hold as much meaning as testimony.