This immersive installation explores the historical suppression and erasure of the Divine Feminine within organized religion—particularly by the Church—and questions the consequences of that silencing. Drawing from ancient texts such as the Gnostic Gospels, which were excluded from the Biblical canon, the work positions the Divine Feminine as a force locked out of religious doctrine, metaphorically and literally confined.

     Visitors enter a darkened room through a locked door bearing the symbol of the Church—an emblem of institutional control and exclusion. Inside, the crucifix is projected onto the far wall, dominating the space. On either side, occupying the lower quadrants created by the cross, are two paintings by William-Adolphe Bouguereau: The Virgin of the Lilies (left) and Pietà (right). Both portray the Madonna with the same face—first as a serene, youthful mother with the infant Christ, and then as a grief-stricken woman cradling her crucified son. At the foot of each image are 55 lit candles, offering a solemn, reverent glow.

     From the wall with the door, hundreds of strands of golden yarn stretch toward a central bejeweled crown of thorns, positioned at the location of Christ's head in the projection. This network of threads symbolizes how the Church has glorified Christ’s suffering and divinity, often at the cost of recognizing other sacred narratives. Three strands of red yarn lead from Christ’s stigmatas to a wooden chalice on the floor—representing the blood of Christ and the ritualization of his death.

     In stark contrast, a prostrate figure in a white robe lies behind the chalice—Mary, the Madonna—positioned in a pool of red sand (or paint), symbolic of blood. She embodies the often-overlooked maternal sacrifice: the unbearable loss of a child, arguably the greatest sacrifice. Transparent fishing lines from the base of each thread of golden yarn extend to the figure of Mary below, implying that her suffering, while deeply connected to the glorified narrative of Christ, remains unseen, unspoken, and deliberately erased.

     Projected stained-glass windows appear on the two perpendicular walls, adding color and a spiritual aesthetic to the space. A window in the left hand corner displays an image of Church authorities gathered to decide which gospels to include in the canon—a moment of exclusion, a confinement of a story to a room and locked outside of the Church.

     Ambient choir music fills the room, evoking the grandeur of ecclesiastical tradition and the Church. Layered into the soundscape of a choir of boys is a recorded poem that speaks to the Madonna’s sacrifice, threading a quiet resistance through the sacred space.

This piece interrogates the marginalization of the feminine in theology and the systemic consequences of that silencing—hinting at the Church’s own moral downfall and the abuse scandals that have shaken its foundations. “Locked Room: The Silenced Divine Feminine” invites the viewer to consider not only what has been sanctified, but what has been sacrificed—and lost—in the process.