Explosion oculaire #8

Eyesplosion is the loudest room in our studio. A series of extreme face close-ups pushed into pure color — saturated reds, electric pinks, bruised blues — where skin stops being skin and becomes a flat field of pigment. Eyes, noses, lips read as graphic shapes against cream backgrounds, the way Warhol let Marilyn dissolve into screen-print, the way mid-century magazine covers shouted across a newsstand. We built the series in a photographic register, then pushed contrast and color until each image hovers between portrait and pop graphic. Nothing is precious. Everything is voltage. Each frame in Eyesplosion isolates one expression at maximum intensity — a glare, a smirk, a parted mouth caught mid-syllable. The palette shifts from heat to cool across the series, but the energy stays the same: confrontational, glamorous, slightly camp. These are pieces that want a wall of their own. They argue with quiet rooms and reward bold ones. Hung over a bar cart, a record shelf, a velvet sofa — anywhere a flat eggshell wall is begging for a punch.