ZT Tosha: Opus Relicarium 2025-26
Opus Relicarium is a multidisciplinary body of work spanning sculpture, installation, painting, and text. Conceived as a “living archive,” the project stages the preservation of identity in real time. Using biological traces, industrial textiles, and gold elements, Tosha transforms fragments of the self into vessels of evidence. Rather than memorializing a finished life, the series examines identity as something unstable—archived, sutured, and reassembled while still unfolding.
ZT Tosha
Title: After the Birds Have Left
Material: oil on canvas
Dimensions: Width 120 cm x Height 80 cm
Year: 2026
After the Birds Have Left (2026)
In After the Birds Have Left, ZT Tosha constructs a painting that attends not to an event, but to what lingers after it. A layered ground of acrylic and ultramarine pigment forms a blurred, atmospheric field—depth without illusion. Over this, a veil of transparent zinc white in oil allows light to circulate through the surface rather than settle upon it, producing a restrained oscillation between concealment and disclosure.
A dark, compressed oval—slightly displaced from center—anchors the composition as a dense, gravitational presence. Across it runs a horizontal line of eleven embedded nails, evenly spaced and measured. Their serial precision interrupts the organic mass of the form, introducing rhythm, count, and temporal structure.
The work resists narrative and symbolism. Instead, it sustains a calibrated quiet in which material decisions—pigment, blur, veil, puncture—accumulate slowly. What remains is not absence, but a held suspension: a space where looking becomes duration.
Christ
ZT Tosha
Title:Christ
Material: Materials: Jute rope (25 meters, 1 cm diameter), iron oxide pigment
Dimensions:
Approx.Glass vitrine -cm 40,2 x 40,8 x 57 h
Year: 2024
ZT Tosha’s Christ presents a philosophy of consciousness realized through material tension. The act of placing raw, unprocessed jute within a pristine vitrine—a form evocative of a reliquary—dissolves the boundary between the devotional and the everyday.
The rope’s coiled geometry is a spiritual spiral, mapping humanity’s contemplative ascent. Following its turn inward, from its iron-oxide-stained surface (reminiscent of earth and body) toward its silent center, becomes an act of shared, meditative focus. It suggests that sacred awareness is not separate from the self, but found in the conscious journey through the tangible.
Here, the humble material, bearing the memory of labor, is the vessel. The work becomes a unified field of perception—a silent equation where the physical coil and the metaphysical converge, locating the sublime within the focused act of human attention.
