In a present ruled by sameness and logic, Salom’s work is a journey back: to childhood, to tribal art, a return to the innocence of creation—not striving for perfection, but embracing the truth revealed through imperfection. It's fun but it scares, It's fucked but who cares.
Irony stands at the core of his practice—not as mere aesthetic flourish, but as a deliberate stance toward the world. As Linda Hutcheon suggests, postmodern irony becomes a tool for navigating the system from the inside—resisting the pull of victimhood and the vanity of grand solutions.
In an age burdened with slogans and fleeting indignations, irony emerges as a way to distance oneself without losing connection. This deliberate ambiguity uncovers cracks, contradictions, and dysfunctions, steering clear of grand proclamations, easy blame, and moralizing speeches. Thus, it narrates the moral and social decline of our time, not from a place of nostalgia, but through a lens of clear-eyed detachment. Rather than mourning what’s been lost or proclaiming imminent catastrophe, his work maintains a curious balance between critique and apparent indifference. In this context, humor is not an escape, but a strategy, a way to endure the weight of the world without succumbing to it.
With a sharp awareness of our historical context, where mass culture and consumption habits shape our identities, his creative practice goes beyond the simple production of consumable objects. As a result, the artist offers us a distorted mirror that both reflects and questions the paradoxes of our time, creating spaces of artistic silence amidst the chaos of visual noise.
In this way, while the world gets caught up in the drama of urgency and political correctness, the artist offers us the most subversive gift: the freedom not to take ourselves too seriously. His language remains direct, approachable, even playful; yet beneath that accessible surface lies a dense, uncomfortable complexity. His art offers no answers, only questions so painfully obvious that they burn.
-Sion Capçana
