ECHO
Brain Gross Fine Art

Through paintings that also exist as sculpture and installations that explore sound implicit in form, I have been insisting that to perceive the space between things; to hear what is silent is a suspension of faith. Lately, this penumbral whisper has changed in the quality of its tone. No longer stored energy on the verge of release, its tension has receded into longing. It has become a muffled cry, a groping for light and air. It has also become a cavern in my imagination where the distant past and the distant future collapse into an indecipherable accretion of sacred speech. I think of the women in Afghanistan who are fighting for their lives by learning to read, of waves of voices extinguished and entombed, of layers of text compressing into shale, and my preoccupation with the embodiment of word in flesh has become more urgent. The entrails of our times are Gothic, and at this point, the sounds of silence are not only precious, they are defiant because they cry out.

©Sono Osato .

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