For all the impersonal nature of their materials, Semo’s works address the human condition. Her titles — fragments from a heterogeneous pool of literature and conversation — imbue the sculptures with enigmatic narrative, speaking in a variety of idioms, yet always with a capitalized detachment. Their different voices prevent their messages — WELL I TALK ONE WAY, BUT I’M REALLY, UNDERNEATH, THE SAME KIND OF MANIAC THAT YOU ARE (2011); or LONG STRETCHES OF INTOLERABLE BOREDOM PUNCTUATED BY SMALL CRISES OF DISGUST (2011) for instance — from seeming to reflect Semo’s own state of mind, instead implying a pandemic hysteria from which she is distanced enough to transform into humour. They recall the titles of Roy Lichtenstein and have Pop Art’s ability to talk directly to people, yet they are applied not to comic-like images but to aggressively abstract forms, thus radically differing in tenor.