Introspection

My father, Frank Rampolla (1931–1971), was a figurative expressionist artist whose work examined the human condition: dignity, isolation, the scars of war, and the search for faith. Even when multiple figures shared the canvas, they rarely connected. That tension between presence and absence stayed with me.

Inspired by his legacy, I’ve continued to explore how easily we grow emotionally distant, even in a world built for constant contact. We all perform versions of ourselves, often without realizing it. Identity becomes a kind of habit, shaped by expectation and self-protection. Introspection is a portrait series about what lingers beneath that performance. It reveals a quieter kind of presence, shaped by solitude, memory, and the slow wear of time.

I’m drawn to the space between what someone shows and what they hold back. Texture that is etched, weathered, and worn becomes part of the subject, like time pressed into skin. The emotion isn’t declared. It’s carried.

These portraits don’t tell stories. They ask. What survives when the performance ends? What’s left after silence?