Christine Sefolosha’s work lies in its layered materiality and evocative presence. Created with thread, cloth, and found objects, her figures seem woven from fragments of forgotten stories. There is no clear narrative, no definitive explanation, only the sense that each piece carries a memory older than language. This ambiguity invites interpretation, allowing viewers to project their own meaning onto works that resist categorisation yet speak with quiet intensity.

Some artists paint, others assemble worlds. Christine Sefolosha does the latter — using worn textiles, splintered wood, old nails and thread, she constructs figures that feel both ancient and intimate. Her process is deeply tactile, almost ritualistic. Each piece begins with a found object, something marked by time, which she then layers with fabric, ink, and intuition. The result is not sculpture in the traditional sense, but a kind of stitching of presence,ghostly yet grounded. Sefolosha doesn’t simply repurpose materials; she listens to them. Her figures emerge slowly, shaped by hand, memory, and silence. In their texture lies a quiet force, an archaeology of emotion, sewn from the overlooked and the discarded.