Singulart guarantees reliability and traceability.
All the artists on the platform have been specially selected and certify to only sell works, of which they are the artist. Whatever the medium, the work is sent to the buyer with a certificate of authenticity. Photographs are numbered and signed.
Every customer can be given a copy of their certificate of authenticity by contacting support@singulart.com
With Singulart, you can pay safely by credit card or bank transfer.
For all transactions exceeding your credit limit, contact us. We are required to verify every transfer, as part of the fight against fraud and money laundering.
Singulart prices include:
Price of an artwork defined by an artist.
Insurance. Your order is 100% protected in case of any damage or loss.
All customs fees, taxes, and document preparation.
Third-party logistic provider shipping costs.
A dedicated Singulart customer care specialist that will assist you with any questions or problems during shipment.
Other details :
Artwork on wood. Ready to hang. Framing on request.
Dimensions :
24x24in
About this artwork
In these works the marks, the gestural “entities” stand alone, isolated in empty space. The empty space implies Silence. Isolation. Sadness. Loneliness. The entities seem to drift and float, representing a sort of incipient end – a past love story, perhaps a dream, a fading memory. Something that is slowly slipping and going away.
The text adds another layer to the mystery of the “story.” Words are purposely scribbled and rubbed slightly away, leaving… behind shadows and dirty marks, much like a messy, complicated relationship and fading memory. Strands of words, snippets of poetry remind us that we can never fully know the complete story and suggests the fleeting, fragmentary but enduring nature of Memory. These pieces are deliberately ambiguous, offering subtle suggestion - hinting at death, the passing of time, and exploring themes of loneliness, longing and desire.
« In the end, ambiguity is always the theme I seem to return to. Searching for something imperceptible. For something haunting in the work, perhaps in a place, maybe in the other, but mostly, I imagine, in myself. »
Cynthia Grow is a passionate painter living between the US and Spain. Her works have featured in prestigious prizes, publications and exhibitions across both countries, and she has participated in residencies throughout Europe. Working in series, she alternates between two seemingly incongruous yet similar veins: paintings on wood panels and text-based works on paper. She harnesses the same sources of inspiration for both of them: language and memory, and achieves an overall aesthetic signature marked by strong senses of mood, poetry and atmosphere.