Staged inside the artist’s studio, The Immortal Mortals is a suite of small platinum prints that feel both intimate and archaeological. The setting is composed with deliberate simplicity, using drawings from the Charcoal Dreamers series as a backdrop. Against this shadowy terrain, lone figures appear in early 20th-century breastplates — neither quite armour nor costume, but something ceremonial and strange.
The plates evoke early modernist theatre, or the beginnings of sci-fi imagination — part prosthetic, part shell. Their wearers seem paused in time, fragile and alert. Not warriors, but perhaps something older or newer: witnesses, dreamers, survivors. Are they viewers from a previous age, or artists themselves, caught in a final act of contemplation?
What remains is a question: Are we witnessing a fond farewell to Homo sapiens — our Stone Age biology, our analogue dreams? Or are we seeing the first outlines of what comes next — a new kind of presence, one shaped not by dominance, but by awareness? These figures, though quiet, do not mourn. They watch, they wait, they endure. In their stillness, there is resilience. In their poise, the beginning of a new language — one that remembers the past, but is no longer bound by it.
