The Art — LUPINIZAM
I

The Crosses

Timber · Iron · Carved. Three materials, one signal. Each register placed in a different part of the world.

The cross appears three times in Lupino’s work — in raw split timber, in welded iron rebar, and in carved darkened wood. They are not religious objects in any conventional sense. They are the mark a man makes when language fails. The three registers together form a single sentence about what remains when every institution has been stripped away from a symbol.

II

The Masks

Each bead placed. Each stone embedded with intention. The face behind the face — not concealment but revelation.

The masks are the most publicly visible element of Lupinizam — worn in festival processions, displayed in galleries, photographed constantly. What they are, beneath the surface, is a language. The dot-bead configurations carry meaning in the Lupinizam system. Every mask is a text. Most readers see only beauty. That, too, is acceptable.

III

Figures & Sculpture

Bronze, stone, and resin. From two-centimetre masks to four-metre monuments. The war made these hands.

The sculpture came after the war. Lupino put down the camera and picked up material — timber first, then stone, then bronze. The Desert Figures are the signature works: two bodies rising from cracked earth, their bead-field faces turned toward a particular sky. They appear in every version of the Lupinizam story. In the novel set on the planet Vatraš, their counterparts stand in the Registry’s public gallery, officially decorative, encoding a message no one has yet read.

IV

The Paintings

Post-expressionist, borrowing Christian iconography and transmuting it into something older and less institutional.

Lupino’s paintings share the same vocabulary as the sculptures — the same figures, the same symbols, the same layered language. Eve and the Snake. Madonna and the Harbingers. The same cosmology rendered in paint rather than bronze, no less monumental for the smaller scale. In The Burning Thrones, the Eve and the Snake hangs in the Council Hall of the five families — the most powerful room in the Registry — visible to everyone who enters, understood by almost no one.

V

The Photography

1970s–1988. The downtown scene before it had a name. Hundreds of negatives, many never printed. First editions in preparation.

Before the war and before the sculpture, Lupino was a photographer. His archive of the New York underground — Area, the Lower East Side galleries, the Basquiat world — is one of the great undiscovered collections of the period. Hundreds of negatives, most never commercially printed. Dagda Media is now preparing the first fully editioned release of this work. Archive membership gives priority access to new releases as they come.

Archive Members

Priority access to every new photography release.

New editions added as the archive is catalogued. Members are first to purchase.

Join the Archive

Every piece tells
the same story.

Scroll to Top