In this series, the photograph becomes a stage for The Paradox of Opposites—light and shadow, presence and absence, form and void—each a necessary counterpoint to the other. Light, in its pursuit of revelation, simultaneously obscures, while shadow, though born of darkness, carries the potential for illumination. These opposites are not in conflict but exist in delicate, almost poetic harmony, each defining and amplifying the other.

In a way, the shadow is the object’s alter ego—a secret identity that exists only when illuminated. Thus, the shadow is not the absence of the object but its other half. It is within the shadow that we find the emotional and psychological resonance of the form. The shadow stretches beyond the confines of the sculpture, evoking a world not contained within the solid mass of the object itself. It becomes a clue to another realm, a hidden universe where the sculpture is allowed to exist in its full potential.

The shadow is not just the echo of an object; it is its refusal to be fully possessed by the gaze. Cast on wooden panels, these shadows break the unity of the composition. They divide space but do not own it. Here, we see a refusal of wholeness. The photograph, then, does not simply capture the world as it is; it reveals the hidden structures beneath it—the dark corners where light does not reach. It uncovers the unseen, the spaces of potential and abstraction, where the object transcends its physical boundaries and enters a greater cosmic dance between presence and absence, light and shadow. In this way, the photograph of a sculpture is not a simple depiction but an invitation—an entry into this hidden world, a confrontation with the paradox of shadow, and a meditation on what it means to see, to know, and to understand.

Thus, the photograph does not merely represent the world; it uncovers the hidden architecture of the unseen, the realm of the shadow—a space where reality and illusion are inseparably bound. The object is not merely an object; it is an event, a complex layering of presence and absence, shadow and light. In this sense, the photograph becomes a portal not just to the physical world, but to a deeper universe of meaning—a space where the paradox of light and shadow is forever unresolved.

In the end, the photograph becomes a mirror of perception itself, constantly in flux, where what is seen is always intertwined with what is unseen. The shadow, as much as the form, is a vital part of the story—an essential element in how we come to understand not just objects, but the very nature of light and space. The photograph, like the shadow, becomes both a truth and a lie, revealing what we know and what we cannot know, simultaneously. And in this paradox, we find the essence of the artistic act: a way of seeing that moves beyond the surface, into the heart of what is hidden, what is eternal, and what is unknown.