7660B111-E0B6-4494-BA09-9B9FCF8A8002.jpeg
7660B111-E0B6-4494-BA09-9B9FCF8A8002.jpeg

Visual Culture I (diptych)

£1,000.00

This provocative mixed-media piece reads like a deconstructed socio-political cartoon—part satire, part lament—laid bare on a chaotic, sun-bleached yellow canvas. The painting collides multiple registers of visual culture: collage, graffiti, African symbology, and absurdist figuration, each competing for dominance in a space that feels deliberately unfinished, like a cultural palimpsest.

This provocative mixed-media piece reads like a deconstructed socio-political cartoon—part satire, part lament—laid bare on a chaotic, sun-bleached yellow canvas. The painting collides multiple registers of visual culture: collage, graffiti, African symbology, and absurdist figuration, each competing for dominance in a space that feels deliberately unfinished, like a cultural palimpsest.

The most immediate visual confrontation comes from the disjointed, upside-down soldier—clad in camouflage, his helmet marked with the unmistakable blue of a UN peacekeeper. His placement feels ironic, almost sarcastic, as though the figure has been flung into the composition—rendered powerless and out of place, as though peacekeeping itself has lost its footing. His distorted presence calls attention to international intervention, militarization, and perhaps the futility of such gestures in the face of systemic chaos.

To the left, a tribal mask motif—simplified but bold—emerges, painted in an almost neon palette of green, red, and white, with arrows pointing in and out of the face. It evokes both cultural appropriation and the gaze of anthropology, staring out confrontationally, as if daring the viewer to exoticize it. The contrast between this traditional symbol and the collaged image of a modern hamburger directly below is jarring and brilliant. The hamburger is hyperreal, American, a stand-in for consumerism and cultural invasion, while above it, the spectral image of a gangster figure (possibly referencing Tony Montana from Scarface) adds a layer of pop mythos—glamorized violence, masculinity, and power fantasies folded into postcolonial critique.

Central to the composition is a barely sketched pig in a suit and tie—ambiguous in species and intent, it resembles a bureaucrat or politician rendered ridiculous. Its transparent form, drawn in a childlike line, suggests either corruption or complicity, its necktie mimicking blood or candy cane, depending on one’s reading.

On the right side, painted punctuation—**“!”** and “?”—appear like emojis, hinting at the collapse of language, the rise of digital semiotics, or the absurdity of contemporary discourse. These marks, paired with swirling abstract textures and whitewashed gestures, create a sense of visual noise, a breakdown of coherence and authority.

Running across the top and bottom of the canvas is a repeated motif of silhouetted trucks—perhaps referencing industry, exploitation, or migration. They bookend the work like a silent procession, reinforcing the idea of commerce and movement—of something being taken or transported, always.

In sum, this piece functions like a modern-day tapestry of global contradiction: colonial ghosts, capitalist excess, militarized peace, commodified culture, and the surreal absurdity of modern power structures. It is politically charged, intentionally unruly, and defiantly unresolved—an artwork that does not seek to comfort but to agitate, interrogate, and provoke.