About the work

The mohair absorbs the sound. Not just the noise of the auction, which is already a strange, almost theatrical clamor in this bright, sterile supermarket, but the entire hum of the world. It’s a deliberate choice, this muting, a way to experience the world not as it is, but as it’s filtered, softened. The bullhorn, however, is a counterpoint, an instrument of forced projection, an unmasking. It suggests an urge to be heard, to cut through the very silence the suit imposes. There is a curious negotiation here, between the desire for inner quiet and the compulsion to make an external mark, even if that mark is just a silent, silver glint. What does it mean to wield the potential for immense sound while actively choosing not to make any? The tape around the handle is the tell, the imperfect human touch on an otherwise perfect, insulated form.