Scène de Naufrage: An Ode to Medusa

Reimagining a Raft for Our Time

When I first encountered Géricault’s Raft of the Medusa, I was struck less by the spectacle than by the silence inside it — the aching pause between hope and despair. That feeling stayed with me. Years later, I began working on Scène de Naufrage, not as a copy or homage, but as a contemporary echo of that moment.

Painted at a quarter of the original’s scale, Scène de Naufrage is not a historical retelling but a contemporary confrontation. It borrows the visual structure of Géricault’s composition — the triangle of figures, the collapsing raft, the bodies suspended between hope and loss — and transposes it to a present-day setting. This is a picture of a migrant vessel, fragmented and sinking, echoing the crossings of the English Channel and the Aegean Sea. The references are literal. The context is real.

Materials and the Making

The painting took shape slowly. I worked in oil on a heavy linen canvas, using a traditional grisaille underpainting before building colour through successive layers. I alternated between thick impasto and thin glazes, balancing texture with restraint, always asking what should be shown — and what should be left in shadow.

Compositionally, I used contemporary reference imagery alongside sketches and studies made from life. Each figure was considered individually, but also in relation to the group — a collection of limbs, gestures, glances. The raft itself was modelled and rearranged repeatedly. It needed to feel precarious, like it might collapse if you looked at it too long. That instability is intentional.

Though the subject matter is urgent, I didn’t want to rush it. The weight of the image had to be earned through layers — of paint, of history, of care.

Not Voyeurism

With images like this, there’s always a risk of slipping into spectacle — of reproducing suffering as something to be consumed. That was never my intention.

This is not a painting of anonymous victims. It is not a news photo reworked in oil. Scène de Naufrage asks for witness, not pity. It’s about presence — the sheer fact of being — and the humanity of those often spoken about but rarely seen with dignity. I tried to hold the gaze gently. To paint with respect. To focus not just on tragedy, but on survival — the will to cling, to carry, to endure.

In that sense, the painting isn’t about “them” or “us.” It’s about what we recognise in one another when everything else falls away.

A Contemporary Echo

I wanted to explore what shipwreck might mean today — not just politically or environmentally, but emotionally. Where do we go when structures collapse? What keeps people tethered to each other in moments of cultural or personal drift? In that sense, this painting isn’t just about disaster. It’s about community. About culture. About connection.

There are no answers in this piece. Only gestures. Some reaching out. Some letting go.