My immediate impression of Wahwah was sufficient to briefly cause the joints in my fingers to separate and then snap back together as if I had been electrocuted. A violent reaction to a violent collection of sharp lines which always seem to be reaching out to the viewer, bidding them to keep their distance from a subj… Read more

My immediate impression of Wahwah was sufficient to briefly cause the joints in my fingers to separate and then snap back together as if I had been electrocuted. A violent reaction to a violent collection of sharp lines which always seem to be reaching out to the viewer, bidding them to keep their distance from a subject matter which to the casual viewer may seem untranslateably obtuse. It was only several months into my investigation that Wha Wha's work began to speak to me. Like a girlfriend's pet dog who only after realising that your presence is permanent will stop barking at you, the pieces grudgingly allowed me to part their chitinous armour, allowing me access to the soft underbelly of context contained within. And what context! Previously atonal compositions suddenly developed vibrant personalities when taken with regard to medieval concepts of virtue, pieces which when first viewed actually caused the structure of my eyeballs to leak vitreous humour into my cereal could now be studied and enjoyed for hours on end. My eyballs marvelling at what was once so toxic to them but now appeared tranquil, like a leaf floating upon a pond.