A vertical fragment frozen mid-sway, mid-step, The Residue evokes what remains after collapse—not just structurally, but emotionally. Made in direct plaster and welded to a steel base, the sculpture stands as a quiet monument to the aftermath. The surface of The Residue was rendered to appear weathered, scraped by time or memory, suggesting a form caught between erosion and persistence.
What once was whole is now distilled into presence alone. The piece does not mourn what’s missing—it simply endures—an echo of form, memory, and quiet persistence.
Faceless yet ever-present, The Vestige stands as a silent observer of the human condition. Its elongated form stretches beyond the confines of identity, embodying the tension between presence and absence, knowledge and anonymity. Without eyes to see or a mouth to speak, it absorbs the world in quiet contemplation, existing in the liminal space between awareness and detachment. In its stillness, it holds stories untold—an oracle of the unspoken, a sentinel of fleeting moments.
The Unbound presents a fragmented yet expressive form, evoking a sense of movement and transformation. The torso, with its arched posture, suggests a moment of release or emergence.
The rough, textured surface contrasts with the delicate curvature of the figure, emphasizing a tension between strength and fragility. The lower part of the figure appears bound or constrained, yet it lifts from its base, supported by thin metal rods, reinforcing the theme of ascension or suspension.
A pair of spindly, bifurcated figures rises with improbable elegance, their elongated limbs suggesting both resilience and exposure. Constructed in plaster atop a steel base, the sculpture’s towering frame defies its fragility—part antenna, part witness. It hovers between ascent and disintegration, presence and erasure, as if tuned to an unseen frequency. Still and alert, it feels less made than summoned.
Plaster cast of original clay sculpture
Rising over nine feet, the slender form lifts into a vast, open reach. Plaster skin clings to its steel core, the weight of the ground countered by the pull of the air above. Neither figure nor pure abstraction, it occupies the threshold between body and aspiration—rooted, yet always straining toward elsewhere.