Three Minutes

About the Artwork

"Three Minutes" is a masterclass in filmic suspense and Mediterranean elegance, unfolding through a cinematic composition dominated by a striking symphony of blues. Set along a pristine coastal road, the artwork captures a sharp, immaculately tailored man holding a pocket watch while raising three fingers toward an unseen presence outside the boundaries of the canvas. Behind him, a woman’s gaze follows the same direction, reinforcing a dense narrative of espionage, silent negotiation, or a final opportunity. Beneath the beautiful façade of the calm sea, vintage luxury, and daylight, a surreal tension grows—symbolised by the deliberate, unsettling absence of any wildlife in the expansive sky. In perfect alignment with the "Living Artwork" philosophy, this mystery is heightened by a custom-composed, jazz-infused noir soundscape that wraps the viewer completely in a world of wealth, secrets, and running time. Discover the full audiovisual experience at: https://fartaash.art

Artist Notes

Three Minutes Painted in oil on canvas, Three Minutes unfolds through a cinematic composition dominated by a symphony of blues—from the tailored suit at its centre to the Mediterranean sea and expansive sky beyond. Precise figurative detail, strong contrasts, reflections on fabric and metal, and carefully orchestrated gestures give the scene an almost tangible reality, while subtle inconsistencies begin to disturb its apparent normality. At the centre, a man holds a pocket watch close to his body while raising three fingers toward someone who exists beyond the boundaries of the canvas: three minutes have been given. Behind him, the woman’s gaze follows the same unseen direction, reinforcing the sense that something—or someone—important stands exactly where the viewer cannot see. Neither figure reveals what will happen when those three minutes expire, and the painting deliberately refuses to explain whether this is a warning, a promise, a negotiation, or a final opportunity. The pocket watch makes time physically present within the scene: no longer an abstraction, but something being measured, held, and allowed to run out. Yet another unsettling detail hides inside the apparently peaceful Mediterranean setting: despite the daylight, open water, boats, and coastline, there is not a single bird or seagull in the sky. Their deliberate absence creates an almost imperceptible silence, as though nature itself has withdrawn from a moment that otherwise appears perfectly ordinary. The elegance of the figures, the calm sea, the vintage vehicles, and the luminous blue atmosphere therefore become a façade beneath which an unexplained tension continues to grow. Three Minutes leaves the viewer inside that unresolved interval, facing the same invisible presence as its characters—and perhaps the only person who knows what will happen when the three minutes are over is the artist himself.