Irene Mikasa

Killer whales break off the hunt when they realise they are being watched; big cats, by contrast, hold the gaze until distance becomes dominion. Irene Mikasa inhabits that instant when the animal ceases to merge with the landscape and acquires a gravity of its own. Beneath heavy skies, black and white strips away everything incidental, reducing the scene to a silent exchange between two presences. There is no spectacle and no threat, only the uneasy intuition that true power may lie in remaining still while everything else learns to look away.