A cello body becomes the ground for a new composition. Where one expects strings and sound, a grid of small tiles takes their place, each derived from a newspaper template that has been cut into equal-sized squares. Each square has been painted black and punched with a tiny hole to allow light from behind to pass through. Upon closer inspection, one notices letters and text from the template still visible on every tile. The familiar instrument is silenced, its surface transformed into a field of ordered fragments.

The cello itself, with its curved outline and resonant body, is a near-perfect shape for aesthetic expression. Here its voice is muted, yet its form persists as a visual anchor. The black surface of the instrument finds a deliberate echo in the black tiles that cover it, creating a dialogue of depth and shadow. In this pairing, the sculpture aligns with the lineage of artists who turned to black as both restraint and revelation—most notably Pierre Soulages, whose work demonstrated how black could open onto space, light, and infinite variation.