Literature

He is still. There is nothing passive in this stillness. The Listener holds space not by speaking, but by remaining present. They are the one who stays after the others have gone, who hears the story out, who doesn't interrupt. And in that quietness, something powerful happens: they become the centre, without ever asking to be.

This portrait marks a shift in the exhibition's rhythm. Where earlier works explore selfhood: how we hold identity, protect it, perform or retreat from it, The Listener turns outward. They are not asking to be seen; they are seeing. Their presence is a gesture of care.The composition reflects this balance.

There's a groundedness to his posture, it is upright, steady, engaged. A gentleness in the brushwork that softens around the eyes and mouth. The colours are complementary, active but still, neither loud nor subdued.We don't know what he is listening to. But perhaps that's the point. The act of listening, really listening, doesn't demand context. It demands attention. It asks nothing but offers everything.

"To listen is to lean in, softly, with a willingness to be changed by what we hear." Mark Nepo