Fracture stages a body mid‑assembly and mid‑disappearance. Planes shear, edges skip and the figure stands like a glitch between frames present, but spliced by zones of silence and noise. A vein of red reads as pulse and wound at once, while slabs of black and concrete white press in like architecture that refuses to hold still.
Kurt uses the logic of screenprint separation, registration, repetition to think through identity as something layered rather than singular. Each color pass arrives like a different account of the same event; alignments tighten, slip and reassert, leaving evidence of making as evidence of becoming. The body is not broken here it is iterated, revised, insisted upon.
In Fracture, fracture becomes structure. What is cut makes space; what is missing speaks. The image stands as a compact ritual of refusal and repair.