CHORISTER
In Chorister, voice is withdrawn and replaced by weight. Sound no longer performs but endures, shaped by pressure, repetition, and time. Like a stone worn by erosion, the work listens rather than speaks, allowing fragments to gather, blur, and slowly deform through sustained resonance and return.
Devotion is treated not as expression but as persistence, an ongoing act of remaining. The chorister here is not the singer, but the silent witness: a body that absorbs sound, holds memory, and permits echoes to continue after meaning has thinned. What unfolds is a meditation on loss, endurance, and the quiet transformation of presence into matter.