Orbital
Witnesses

kinetic sculpture series / 2026
Who, down here, is watching the sky we have already claimed?

The Orbital Temple satellite circles the Earth carrying thousands of names. The Orbital Witnesses are the terrestrial body of that orbit: twelve objects that make an invisible presence tactile, present, and accountable.

Twelve sculptures. Twelve texts. Twelve witnesses to the same invisible orbit.
Orbital Witnesses, 2026. The Witnesses keeping the orbit's rhythm.
The Twelve

Eleven are engraved, each in the artist's own handwriting. One is silent by design. Tap a witness to read it.
How does it work?

Each Witness carries a brushless motor and a microcontroller. The metal pointer turns to trace the satellite's passage overhead, then stills when the orbit has moved on, and waits for it to return.

Movement, then rest. The piece keeps the rhythm of something it cannot see.
Close view of an Orbital Witness: the engraved copper lid and the pointer crossing it.
The pointer crossing the engraved lid.
Photo by Edson Pavoni.
The series does not offer a single voice. It offers a constellation.
Twelve texts drawn from a range of positions: the colonized heaven, the bureaucracy of admission and denial, the witness who refuses transcendence, the witness who surrenders to it, the one drinking on a beach while others resolve the universe with certainty. Together they form an argument about what it means to watch a sky that someone has already claimed, already divided, already named as sacred or forbidden.

No single witness completes the argument. The series is the argument.
Orbital Witness One on a white wall.
Witness One who can be accepted, who shall be denied, I'm god, as I witness the heavens I've created and destroyed The series opens by claiming the throne: the voice that decides who enters and who is turned away, the bureaucracy of admission spoken in the first person of a god. It is the position the other eleven spend the series answering.
Orbital Witness Two on a white wall.
Witness Two trembling before reaching the ocean, a river looks back on her journey, oblivious to the pleasure of becoming The opposite of the claim. Not a god who judges, but a river afraid to dissolve. At the meeting point with something larger she looks back and fears disappearing, unaware that disappearing is the pleasure.
Orbital Witness Three on a white wall.
Witness Three there is a sword glowing with flames, blocking the path to the third heaven, they say The legend of the barred heaven, held at arm's length by "they say." The doubt is the content: a gate everyone believes in and no one has seen.
Orbital Witness Four on a white wall.
Witness Four although bottomless, the sacred space is never empty We believe we carry no dogma; we do. The sacred space is the room in us where inherited moral intuition lives, and it has no floor where the conditioning stops. Descend as far as you want, it is furnished all the way down.
Orbital Witness Five on a white wall.
Witness Five standing half Oxum, half mirror, a woman showing no fear of being naked opens her eyes looking exactly into mine, and without moving anything but her arm, takes a rose crystal egg from the place in her body that bleeds The first gate is the body. Oxum, the Yoruba orisha of fresh water and sensuality, stands without shame and looks back at the witness, locating the sacred not in the sky but in the flesh that bleeds. The first subject in the series who returns the gaze.
Orbital Witness Six on a white wall.
Witness Six Das coisas que me ligam à terra, meu filho e essa dor nas costas (Among the things that ground me to the earth, my son and this pain in my back.) One witness turns away from the heavens and names what wires it to the ground: a son, and a body that hurts. Not symbols, the most material things a life contains. In Portuguese, ligam is the language of circuits, the same word as the electrical ground itself: the two connections that keep him plugged into this life instead of the next.
Orbital Witness Seven on a white wall.
Witness Seven what pays for grace? No need to pay they say. behave. Every heaven advertises free admission. This witness asks who is actually paying, and answers in a single muttered command. Grace costs nothing at the gate because the price was already collected, in the shape a life had to take to qualify.
Orbital Witness Eight on a white wall.
Witness Eight in search for just the right amount of freedom Between the loneliness of too much freedom and the erasure of too little, the witness walks looking for the exact livable distance. The most recognizable position in the series: everyone has walked this walk.
Orbital Witness Nine on a white wall.
Witness Nine Designed to reach the third heaven, now, mostly used for fun The satellite, the rocket, the aspiration, all built to reach heaven, all drifted toward the market and the amusement. Not a complaint, a diagnosis: the gap between what a thing was for and what we actually do with it.
Orbital Witness Ten on a white wall.
Witness Ten nevertheless not thy will, but mine be done In the garden the original prayer surrenders: not my will, but thine be done. This witness reverses it. The creature takes back the sentence and claims its own will against the one who designed the orbit.
Orbital Witness Eleven on a white wall.
Witness Eleven I again make an alliance with mystery After all the arguing, the mature move: not solving the mystery, not dismissing it, but re-entering a relationship with it. "Again" is the key. The peace that earns the final silence.
Orbital Witness Twelve on a white wall.
Witness Twelve silent The twelfth carries no text. Its silence is not absence but the space the other eleven gather around. What the satellite sees on its passes over every claimed sky cannot be fully spoken. Eleven voices and one silence make the set an open question rather than a closed argument.
Materials and form

Each Witness pairs a warm metal lid, brass, copper, or aluminum, with a black 3D-printed body and a metal pointer that moves. The line on each lid is engraved in the artist's own handwriting, vectorized and cut on a fiber laser. Brass receives the engraving with depth and contrast; you have to lean in to read it.

The pairing of warm, ancient metal with a synthetic, contemporary body is not incidental. These sculptures are about the meeting of the technological and the human. The materials carry that meeting in their skin.

Diameters range from 23 to 56 cm. Each is a unique work.
Detail of an engraved copper lid. An Orbital Witness with a copper lid. An Orbital Witness, metal pointer at rest.
Details from the Orbital Witnesses series.
Photo by Edson Pavoni.
Part of Orbital Temple

The Orbital Witnesses are the terrestrial counterpart of Orbital Temple, the first artistic orbital satellite from the Global South. The satellite carries the names; the Witnesses keep watch.
Each Witness is a unique work, and there are twelve.
If one of them is speaking to you, write to me.
Exhibitions

2026
Maintain Frame Control
Curated by Millie Benson
14BC Gallery, New York, USA
Credits

Edson Pavoni, artist

Photography
Edson Pavoni