My Statement
The human condition is at the center of my work.
Through sculpture, I explore the emotions, relationships, contradictions, desires, and spiritual questions that shape our experience of being human.
I am interested in what connects us, but also in what makes us vulnerable, uncertain, resilient, and capable of transformation. Love and friendship, desire and loss, identity and belonging, freedom and conflict, spirituality and hope all become different ways of examining the same fundamental question: what does it mean to be human?
My sculptures often begin with something familiar—a human gesture, an everyday object, a relationship, or a simple observation—and transform it into a visual metaphor. A tree becomes a community. A knot reveals the invisible force within a relationship. Two chairs become lovers. A gift becomes an invitation to look within ourselves. Punctuation marks become a reflection on humanity’s uncertain future. I am less interested in representing these objects than in discovering what they can reveal about us.
Symbolism is therefore essential to my practice, but so is humor. Human beings are complex, contradictory, and sometimes wonderfully irrational. I often use irony, unexpected juxtapositions, or playful situations to approach serious ideas. A sculpture may first provoke curiosity or a smile and only afterward invite a deeper reflection. For me, poetry and humor can coexist with vulnerability, spirituality, and profound emotion.
Material is part of this language. Bronze can give permanence to a fleeting gesture or emotion. Mirror-polished stainless steel absorbs light, architecture, landscape, and the viewer, continually transforming the work through its surroundings. Wood introduces warmth and the memory of something once living. Through material, scale, movement, balance, and the spaces between forms, I seek to make intangible experiences physically present.
The relationship between sculpture and viewer is equally important. I do not want to impose a single interpretation. I prefer to create enough openness for viewers to enter the work with their own memories, questions, and emotions. When someone recognizes something of themselves in a sculpture, the work moves beyond my original intention and becomes a shared experience.
Whether I am creating an intimate sculpture or a monumental public work, I return to the same human questions. How do we preserve our individuality while living with others? What draws us together, and what pulls us apart? How do we confront vulnerability and change? Where do we find hope? What invisible forces give meaning to our relationships and our lives?
I do not expect sculpture to provide answers. I see it as a way of making these questions tangible—a space where thought and emotion can meet.
Ultimately, my work is an ongoing exploration of the human condition: our fragility and strength, our contradictions and aspirations, our need for meaning, and our profound capacity to connect with one another.