SABAH AL KHAIR (ongoing)

SABIH AL KHAIR is structured around the impossibility of vision. Images captured in darkness with a violent flash are extended across long durations, held until the act of looking becomes unstable. The projection is placed in a corner, its surface disturbed by a domestic lamp that erases the work with glare. The viewer is forced to approach the very source of obstruction in order to see. What appears as a simple intervention becomes a system of inversion, where light functions not as revelation but as erasure, and where the apparatus of perception folds back on itself.

The work moves slowly, almost imperceptibly. A single image is pulled apart over minutes, zoomed, and shifted, until its subject dissolves into a field of grain and movement. The sound that accompanies it—a hum of electricity, a reverberated bell, fragments of recorded testimony—occupies the room as residue rather than narrative. It does not guide, it interrupts. What emerges is a condition of overexposure, where the effort to preserve or transmit becomes the very instrument of loss.

The installation positions the viewer between saturation and absence. It recalls strategies of impoverished means, where ordinary objects undo the authority of vision and the most modest material shifts perception. The glare of a lamp exceeds the projection it interrupts; the ordinary becomes overwhelming. In this collapse, the promise of clarity is inverted. The morning that the title invokes arrives already blinded.