Unheard Words 2020

Curator: Jason Limon created "Unheard Words" in 2020. He works with acrylic paint. Editor: Oh, my! It has that beautifully eerie, carnival after-dark kind of vibe. Slightly unnerving with the skulls and that golden backdrop freckled with colourful dots, like confetti or some strange otherworldly bokeh. Curator: Limon plays with some enduring imagery here: the skeletal figure, a suggestion of mortality and maybe also the masks that we put on. It has elements of the carnivalesque but also art history. Think about Northern Renaissance vanitas paintings and their focus on symbolic objects that function as reminders of the ephemerality of life. Editor: That skull is… nested? It's like a Russian doll of mortality! What is it about? A symbol of suppression perhaps? And I see the tiny skeleton holding a banner that says "Unheard Words" which feels central. What story is Limon trying to tell, do you think, with that explicit reference? Curator: It speaks, for me, to the human condition and silence around vulnerability. What we hold within – perhaps secrets, untold truths – these become our unseen inner architecture. In many ways this is where Surrealism thrives, bringing unconscious realities into tangible forms. It also reflects how contemporary culture often neglects to provide a platform for important social commentary, perpetuating historical issues. Editor: I wonder if the diamond patterned interior is meant to feel like an inner-voice amplifier or is it representative of all our different social costumes – almost theatrical in how we adopt roles throughout life. Is it meant to represent the masks of life? Or perhaps even our personal echo chambers? Curator: Absolutely! The art becomes not only aesthetically stimulating but socially relevant when such artistic expressions start a deeper introspection about art and its reflection of history. That, in and of itself, is a powerful public role art can have! Editor: This feels less about simple mortality and more about legacy, voice, and the haunting feeling of unexpressed thought, which is, I think, quite poetic. Curator: It leaves us thinking about who gets to speak and the importance of finding and using our own voices, so yeah, truly haunting, indeed.