Fadi Zeneldin works in painting and sculpture, building faces from the fewest possible lines.

The work returns, again and again, to a single motif: the eye. Enlarged, isolated, sometimes duplicated across overlapping heads — it carries the whole weight of expression while the rest of the face falls away into flat colour and contour.

Each canvas is built with acrylic in a restrained palette: bone white, terracotta, deep teal, black. Line is drawn rather than painted, kept unbroken wherever possible, so that a figure can be read in one continuous gesture.

Recurring themes — desire and its escape, ignorance as comfort, the mechanics of mortality, the cosmos held inside a head — are treated with humour as much as gravity. The paintings are meant to be looked at slowly, on a quiet wall, with room around them.