There was a long gap. A silence that lasted longer than expected. And then — not a restart from zero, but a reconnection. All the background was still there. The passion came back stronger than before.
Every painting in this collection carries language — literally. Graffiti runs through each canvas: over faces, beneath portraits, behind silence. Words that exist even when the figure says nothing. Marks that insist on being seen.
Censored holds a finger to its lips — but the wall behind speaks. Silent Strength bows its head — but the surface is full of words. Fear Is Not My Language shows two figures who refuse to be quiet about who they are.
This is the collection where Salvat found his voice again. And turned it up. Ir is Aftermath.