And Then There Was Light continues the artist’s exploration of the relationships between body, memory and material time. The lighthouse appears not simply as a coastal landmark, but as a body carrying memory. Built from displaced geometric forms, it remains upright while seeming close to tilting, fracturing or being reorganised. Architecture acquires bodily vulnerability, while the body becomes a structure shaped by climate, environment and time.

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The sea, mountains and swirling sky form temporal strata in which human experience is placed against deep time. Memory is treated not as a linear narrative, but as sediment: buried, eroded and repeatedly brought back to the surface. Light offers no final answer; instead, it becomes a temporary means of orientation. As familiar coordinates shift, fragments of memory help the individual locate the self again. The work asks whether the self is only a temporary outline formed within the movement of material time.