As a classically trained violinist, I know the instant when music wants to leave the body — when movement and sound become one, before the mind intervenes.
Under the name Bai Nike — a gift from Chinese friends — I work in oil, often with bare hands. The paint is felt, not applied.
A painting is finished when it sounds.
Dancing and music-making figures.
A concert hall
where the light goes out —
and still the room resounds.
A figure releasing itself from the ground — painted with bare hands, in a single breath. The moment of letting go.
The most autobiographical work of the series. A violinist in flight — bow and body indistinguishable. It is the artist herself.
Two figures, one rhythm. Tango as dialogue — between impulse and resonance, lead and follow, sound and silence.
Trees, forests, seasons that burn.
A garden in late afternoon, where every form is an inner state.
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