The Hysterical Arch — the involuntary backward bend of the body at the peak of unbearable pressure — is not merely a clinical symptom. It is a geometry of survival: the most extreme form the human body produces in order not to break. On a large panel washed in vertical layers of grey, a body made of straw, gauze, and bandages arches outward from the surface. It neither fully emerges nor sinks back — held at the threshold between appearing and disappearing. The materials were not chosen to represent the body but to behave as the body behaves: gauze stretches until it reveals its inner threads, straw stiffens yet remains brittle, bandages carry the memory of contact without naming it. The arch is the critical point made visible. The body stiffens under what it bears, yet the curve itself is an act of yielding — not surrender, but the willingness to bend so as not to shatter. The Hysterical Arch is not a depiction of pain. It is the form pain takes when it has not been spoken — when it has been carried in the body because there was no language, no listener, no stillness in which it could be heard.