26/09/2026
A disembodied wooden hand, painted black, is mounted high on the wall, its fingers curled as though animating something just beyond view. From its grasp, fine threads drop three silver forms — a crescent moon and star, a Star of David, a cross — the emblematic shorthand of the three Abrahamic faiths, held together in a single, suspended constellation.
Hand-sawn, polished and silver plated, each symbol works like a fractured mirror, catching light and throwing it back across the room in scattered, luminous fragments, while shadows fall across the wall. Light and shadow share one source — a reminder that these three faiths, so often positioned as opposing, are drawn from the same root and shine with the same shared light.
Rather than dwelling on division, the piece finds a quiet hope in proximity: the symbols hang side by side, moved by the same hand, catching the same light, casting shadows that overlap and blur into one another. In a world where religious and cultural difference is so often used to separate, Wassall's marionette suggests another possibility — that what unites these faiths might be as visible, and as luminous, as what sets them apart. The title reads less as lament than as aspiration: a wish for the clarity and connection that silver offers — reflective, shared, and capable of turning fracture into something that catches light.
