The cast of a man kneeling with his hands above his head, made of unpolished white plaster, rests in the midst of a quiet gallery. Bare chested and in his underwear, the figure emits the unnerving stillness of a sculptural monument while brimming with the vitality of a breathing body. Pulsating with the energy of a life on the edge, in medias res, the work teeters on the verge of relinquishment or revolt. It evokes both a cathartic, singular moment of bare life, and the now routinely mediatized sight of a Black body at the mercy of violent white power.
