JASE KING

The Last Note In The Symphony. ( Full Version ) Act 1 : The Cavalcade Act 2 : Final Farewell This wasn’t just a show, it was something deeply personal, a final, emotional farewell to my beloved companion, Archie, who lived 16 adventure-filled years and died in my arms on my birthday. As he exhaled his last breath, I thanked him for allowing me to be his dad and made a promise that I would do my best to immortalize him forever. Every part in this performance reflects my emotions, molded by the journey through the face sculptures I poured into creating during his final months and after his passing. Every detail was meticulously curated from the color palette, styling, soundtrack to the plaster garments and the face sculptures worn by models, hand selected by me. This poignant procession through the streets of Paris was my last note, a love letter to Archie. These face sculptures were transported into the gallery as part of the opening ceremony for WONDERLUST, running until 05/10 @galeriehoangbeli . — Filmmaker @leo_cotte Models @kambestarr @seoyoung.j2 @jeloro @da_yul_kim Mask bearers @anjelasevilla @delfinedurieux @alraco43 @bella_rose_digiacomo Mahabat Jase’s garments @_hawii_ltd Model garments @anjelasevilla ( Track versions and music transitions has been altered to fit guidelines )

Still soaking in the magic of being in Berlin and inside the stunning Kunstgewerbe Museum. The raw beauty of its architecture couldn’t be a more fitting space for REDAMANCY. It was truly special to open THE ART OF MAKING surrounded by such an inspiring blend of German and French artists and collectors. Thank you to everyone who came and shared in the moment. What a night! Huge gratitude to the museum and to both the Paris and Berlin teams that made this happen, collaborating with you was a dream. THE ART OF MAKING Kunstgewerbe Museum Berlin 04 April – 01 June 2025 — REDAMANCY Sculpture Freshwater Pearls / Mixed Media Sculpture 582Hz infused into crystals grown on stand 58cm x 80cm x 170cm 2024 Pearls are created through a slow, transformative process in which an oyster covers an irritant over time. Similarly in life, challenges and pain are layered and endured, eventually giving rise to wisdom and beauty. Much like the soul, pearls are shaped by experiences, symbolizing the tension between suffering and the outcome of perseverance. The cascading white tassels represent more than just flowing tears; they symbolize the passage of time, thread by thread. Individual beads, distinct yet connected, reflect the many moments of life along the journey from birth to death. Each bead is a singular event or memory, encapsulated and preserved, while the string that binds them together holds the unity of all experience. Redamancy is a love returned in full; an act of loving in return. “ Now I know that life and death are not opposing forces but parts of a single continuum, that a moment was all we had, but a moment was all it took. “ —- With heartfelt thanks to Chambre de Métiers et de l’Artisanat Paris. This exhibition is brought to life by @cma_paris @cma_idf , @kunstgewerbemuseum_berlin / @staatlichemuseenzuberlin and Handwerkskammer Berlin. #jaseking #kunstgewerbemuseumberlin #staatlichemuseenzuberlin

The Sanctuary Behind My Eyelids No.10 of 24 Mothers Are For Other Boys SERIES ( Each piece representing my state of mind from year 1-24, in the absence of my mother ) Mixed Media on Canvas 100cm x 100cm 2026 I had been hit many times before during those ten years that never seemed to end, most often across the face. Usually, I would feel it arriving before it happened, like the air in the room tightening around me. I would brace myself for impact, feet pressed hard into the floor as though I could root myself deeply enough to survive it. My breathing would turn sharp and uneven through my nose, but I would hold my face still, sculpting strength over pain. I never wanted her to witness the hurt itself, only the endurance of it. What always unsettled me was that this woman was not my mother, though I learned to call her that anyway, as if bestowing her with that title could somehow change things. It never did. I hated her for the way her hands found me, and I despised my father even more for standing in silence. Still, I apologized. Every time. I learned early that survival could look like obedience. That fear could bow its head and speak softly. I became careful with my tone, careful with my body, careful with the arrangement of my face. My existence became theatrical, a performance stitched together from tension, restraint, and the ability to sense shifts in the air. It was a choreography of silence where every movement was designed to prevent another eruption. But this time was different. We were living in my uncle’s house then, surrounded by other people, thin walls, nearby voices, the ordinary sounds of life continuing while mine folded inward. What I remembered most was not even the fear, but the humiliation of being seen inside it. I knew there was nothing I could do except stand there and let it happen, carrying my shame quietly like another piece of furniture in the room. When the blow came across my face, instead of rooting myself to the ground like I usually did, I closed my eyes. Behind my eyelids, something opened. Colorful lines, textures, and pulsating shapes moved in rhythm like living electricity enveloping me. ( Continued in Slide )

Invisible Walls of Euphoria No.22 of 24 Mothers Are For Other Boys SERIES ( Each piece representing my state of mind from year 1-24, in the absence of my mother ) Mixed Media on Canvas 88cm x 108cm 2026 There was a time the night carried me like a secret. I moved past velvet ropes and dingy spaces, through sweaty rooms trembling with basslines and beautiful strangers, searching for somewhere to place the ache of abandonment without having to name it. The dancefloor became a temporary heaven. A place where feelings dissolved beneath strobe lights and nobody looked closely enough to see what was unraveling underneath. I built invisible walls around myself with remarkable precision. Not to shut the world out completely, but to protect the rebellious heart beating violently behind them. A heart too restless to belong anywhere. Too wounded to remain open. I became untouchable in the way smoke is untouchable, always present yet impossible to hold. People mistook my recklessness for freedom, but freedom and self-destruction often wear the same cologne after 2am. I carried myself like someone with nothing to lose because I believed I didn’t. No hands left to hold onto me. No expectations strong enough to cage me. No reason to move carefully through a world that had already left me behind. So I let the nights consume me whole. I disappeared into neon. Into haze. Into the beautiful chaos of forgetting. I danced as though movement itself could outrun memory. As though thumping music could fracture grief into something weightless. The city held me in its artificial glow while I quietly unraveled beneath it. Still, beneath every seismic bass drop with my arms raised and head collapsing into the beat, there remained a loneliness so profound it echoed. —— I left a secret in this piece. A handwritten note born somewhere between euphoria and collapse. It is immortalized inside a capsule embedded into it, preserving it like a relic from another version of myself. Most people will never know it’s there and that is the point. Some truths are meant to exist just beneath the surface. ——

I Stared And She Stayed No.2 of 24 Mothers Are For Other Boys SERIES ( Each piece representing my state of mind from year 1-24, in the absence of my mother ) Mixed Media on Canvas 100cm x 100cm x4cm 2026 Every photograph of my mother and sister had been destroyed. A decision made long before I was old enough to question where I came from. By the time I began asking about my lineage, there was almost nothing left. Almost. The only thing that survived was a photograph of my sister and me on my second birthday. The truth is, the little boy holding the cake was too young to understand absence. Too young to know that memories could be erased by someone else’s hands. Still, I’m grateful for that photograph. It became the only thing I could physically hold onto. As the years passed, that image carried the hugs I never received and the words I spent my life wanting to hear. I studied it endlessly. I imagined the texture of her mustard yellow dress. The sound of her voice. The shape of her laugh. Who was she? What was she like? Did she remember she had a younger brother? She wasn’t here, so imagination became its own kind of reunion. She was smiling in the photograph, so I smiled back. I stared and she stayed.

INTERSTELLAR is a sculptural mask suspended between earthly ritual and celestial mystery, dependent on both the visible and the invisible. Its golden surface shimmers with shifting reflections, evoking distant galaxies and the restless movements of stars. Golden fringes unfurl like solar flares, while touches of red vibrate like cosmic embers. The open mouth transforms the mask into a channel of communication with the universe, recalling the role of song and breath in ancestral rituals. Interstellar acts as a portal, evoking shamans and chiefs of old seeking celestial guidance. It embodies ancestral wisdom reinterpreted through the cosmos, a symbol of connection and reverence for forces greater than ourselves. — The beat of Paris flicker like constellations and it is with immense pride that INTERSTELLAR takes its place at The Art Of Making International Exhibition, unfolding across the city of Paris. Powered by the Chamber of Trades and Crafts of Île-de-France and the Chamber of Trades of Berlin @cma_paris More information:

INTERSTELLAR will be on view from 24th February to 7th March at The Art Of Making 2026 International Exhibition which extends around the city of Paris. You can spend the day walking in this magnificent city visiting over 70 specially curated works of art by French and international artists at venues such as the CMA 10Sign Artisanat Paris boutique, Petit Palais, Grand Palais boutique and the Forney Library. The program also includes studio visits, lectures, meetings with artists/artisans and urban art walks. More information at Powered by the Chamber of Trades, Crafts of Île-de-France – Paris and the Chamber of Trades of Berlin. @cma_paris

If I had known that adulthood would turn me into a playful alchemist, blending science and biology into the bloodstream of my art, I might have treated those classrooms like studios instead of obligations. What once felt like facts on a board have become living tools in my hands, bubbling, reacting, transforming. When the ideas arrive, they rarely fit inside ordinary materials. The vision asks for something truer, something born rather than bought. So I create my own mediums, building them from curiosity and trial, letting chemistry dance with intuition until they finally agree. Days stretch into weeks. Weeks soften into months. All in pursuit of the right formula, the one that breathes the way the work demands before it ever touches the canvas. For now, I keep those recipes close, like whispered spells, until they’re ready to live as part of an installation alongside the pieces themselves. When that time comes, I won’t hide the missteps. The spills. The near disasters. The beautiful chaos. The failures will stand proudly beside the successes, revealing the play, the struggle, the turbulence that sometimes blooms into unexpected magic.

A behind the scenes look shooting the editorial “BREAKING BOUND: The Anatomy of Becoming” for @lofficielhommesitalia . Thank you to everyone in giving this new piece its world debut ( more on that soon ). ______________________________________ Photographer - @agf_281 Face Sculpture @jaseking Garment - @_hawii__ Grooming - @silvibeautybb Talent- @bayo_diaw @modelsmilano.scouting Creative Direction/Styling of @kamal.ijale & @_aliyaclara_

I’m grateful to share that this never-before-seen face sculpture from the Mothers Are for Other Boys series (more on that later) makes its world debut, in the editorial “BREAKING BOUND: The Anatomy of Becoming” for @lofficielhommesitalia . ______________________________________ Photographer - @agf_281 Face Sculpture @jaseking Garment - @_hawii__ Grooming - @silvibeautybb Talent- @bayo_diaw @modelsmilano.scouting Creative Direction/Styling of @kamal.ijale & @_aliyaclara_

This work centers on a place that never existed physically in this world and yet was very real to me. There’s a child like approach in the applications with explosions of colors. A pocket I could slip into when the external world felt confusing or overwhelming. It was fueled by imagination, instinct and necessity. That inner landscape became my refuge, a quiet architecture I could return to when I didn’t have answers and needed to escape with what was going on around me. In this place I had unbridled power. In this place I was truly free. It’s where I made promises to myself, to grit my teeth and go right through. There was hope that things were not going to stay this way forever. You are by my side through this as I’m currently building and creating. Here is an early look at the next series, Mothers are for other boys. Each piece corresponds to a year of my life, beginning the day I was born. I’m sharing it all as it unfolds, not as something finished or fixed, just moments through the process. This is about the power of the mind and how the worlds we create inside ourselves can sometimes be what saves us.