The Pestilence of Virtue

Disgust, revulsion and decrepitude — all are on prominent display in Christof D.'s 'The Pestilence of Virtue'. Undoubtedly Christof's most controversial piece, the watercolour is filled with uncomfortable messages to the viewer. One is first struck by the gold-encrusted wings of the bird and the stigmas of the flowers. Reflecting on the self-absorbed bird, one realises that it will never fly like it should with that heavy metal on its wings. The odd vertical branches in front of it further suggest the fowl's imprisonment as it gazes out through the bars. And what does it behold? An unrelenting sea of pea-vomit. To the bird, however, we imagine it only sees the colour of money. Such is the power of one's worldview — it crafts the very weather we experience, the very atmosphere we must breathe. We lament the bird's plight, and its poignant inability to discern its true situation. And what of the flowers? Christof masterfully incorporates a pun on the term 'stigma,' beckoning the astute observer to unravel its significance. The shimmering pistils of the flowers reflect not vanity, however, but the glow of goodness, an innate desire to be righteous. One wonders if the bird finds solace in seeing others similarly chained by their virtues. Perhaps he vainly misconstrues their gleaming stigmas as reflecting his own noble sacrifice for beauty. And one young flower, courageously leaning into the cage, seems to wish for that same moral clarity, even at the cost of freedom. Through this juxtaposition, Christof's masterpiece forces a dramatic turn that upends our understanding: vanity and virtue are in fact kindred spirits, both unwittingly binding and blinding their victims to prisons of their own making. Over to the left, two elder blooms, perhaps the entering flower's parents, proudly watch the young one entering the cage. It's a heart-wrenching sight, the heavy mantle of righteousness leading to the tragic cycle of entrapment and pride being perpetuated in the next generation. The elderly flowers themselves seem lost, having long accepted their captivity. But Christof is making one last attempt to reach us. Indeed, amidst a world of discarded candy wrappers and TikTok bulldozer videos, his work violently grabs us by the lapels and asks, "When will we ever learn?"