Yanoi KusamDocMac

He melds the time-worn allure of vintage with the stark precision of data analyses. His pieces are enigmatic riddles, void of warmth, echoing silent symphonies of numbers and shades. And within this cryptic tapestry, there's a thread, almost imperceptible, linked to the distant specter of Arthur Funkhauser. An idol, they say, though words scarcely do justice. For isn't true art often what's left unspoken, lingering in the cold, quiet spaces between?