Tenth in the Genomic Works sequence, Alexander the Great presents a stylized male portrait—bearded, intense, rendered in saturated tones of orange, teal, and red. It’s not a likeness, but a constructed signal: a face assembled from charisma, abstraction, and emotional charge. The portrait doesn’t claim identity—it holds space.
Surrounding it, the vertical bands unfold like fragments of a collective archive: comic illustrations, Asian script, geometric overlays, floral motifs. Toward the right, a band quietly disrupts the rhythm—grainy frames from the Zapruder film, inserted like a historical echo. It’s not a reference—it’s a residue. A moment where mediated memory enters the genomic field.
Alexander the Great is not about empire or biography. It’s a meditation on how presence is built—through image, rhythm, and interruption. The canvas quantifies experience, not legacy, and reminds us that what endures isn’t conquest, but the architecture of perception.
|