Power is the exercise of a boundary.
How to draw and traverse the lines of existence while simultaneously inhabiting the interrogative territory of coexistence—where the vocabulary of possibility is revealed. Power is a moral balancing act: resistant labour and the geometry of limits. To deprive, or to deprive oneself, before the banquet of ownership.

This meal for two—a table laid with possible conquests—is a treatise on force: on yielding and resisting, on consuming or preserving, on succumbing and renouncing or subjugating. It is recounted with maniacal obsession through what remains of two bodies caught in the act of contention.

They are the brothers of Senecan tragedy, Thyestes—harsh and merciless in their hunger for possession. What we see are their remnants: terrible shadows, nocturnal birds, echoes of Tantalus, embodiments of strife, hatred, and atrocity. They sit composed at the laden table upon which, according to the Latin tragedian’s tale, the most ferocious revenge will be enacted.

They are suspended in the instant before the epilogue—the space where doubt and tension, having reached their peak and reiterated over infinite time, begin to alter and fracture their outward composure, gradually dismantling the forms of etiquette. Here, tragedy is already unfolding: in the slow drip of questioning, of possibility, of futile hope; in the overturning of logic; in the excess of desire; in the impossibility of absolute reason and in the monsters produced by its dream.

With PASTO A DUE (Meal for Two), the diptych inspired by the myth of the Atrides comes to a close, following the previous creation PUNTO DI FUGA (Vanishing Point).