The Aftermath

A collection of hand-formed glass vessels, pieced together from what wine bottles once were. They speak of raised voices, arguments, glasses thrown, without depicting the moment of rupture itself: between family members, colleagues, politicians. They are what remains after. Marked, not undone. Found still standing once the room has emptied.

Their surfaces carry visible seams, lines where the fragments have been rejoined without pretending the break never happened. The only sign left legible is the scar, with no repair in the sense of healing. The friction that shaped them could belong to a tense family dinner where sharp words were thrown, just as easily as to a room where decisions are made through the art of diplomacy, on behalf of many. The work does not choose between the two.

Their rounded forms carry a quiet echo of the circle: a table, a decision making chamber, any space built for people to face each other. This reference stays in the background, a trace rather than a statement. What matters is what the circle becomes once everyone has gone silent. Holding its shape after the voices are gone, lit from within, as if light were the only thing still capable of making peace.