The Méduse Scuttling on the River Styx.
2017
Video
Edition of 5
2:45 min loop
In allegorical vestige, I enact Gericault as he bemoaned the tragedy of the Méduse. A tragedy, similarly born out of incompetence through an improper appointment in ostentatious political gain. As a result, many a soul was driven to the frontiers of human experience, set adrift on an ocean of uncertainty and chaos. All hope abandoned by those who entered there. These have no hope of death... mercy and justices disdain them.
Lest this dark and savage place be transfixed another road is to be taken, yet it is a path that skirts the very banks of the Styx itself.
Let us not speak of them, but do thou look and pass on. The voyeuristic platitudes of those hoarse from long silence re-enchant the fallacies of an age of false, deceitful gods. They are fountains that pour out so great a river of speech, yet they themselves dare not wade through its waters. This measure of souls maintains of those who lived without infamy and without praise.
Inspiration Artwork:
The Raft of the Medusa (1818 -1819)