Fragments of a Landscape
H300 x W1000mm
Drawing, paper, stitch, wax.
Features of the landscape,
such as; ancient cobbled streets, crumbling, mossy drystone walls, styles, distant
hills, waterfalls and mountain contours, are all deliberately fragmented in
this piece. These features all relate to specific places, which resonate for me
when remembering what I love most, (and miss most), about the place I come
from. As I revisit these themes,
memories ‘fine tune’, shift and idealise and I’m always surprised at how
entangled I become in both the depth of the memory and the emotive response to
Pages of a Landscape
H600 x W1200mm Drawings printed, paper, stitch. NFS
An installation which suggests uncertain perspectives, fragmented views and dissolving
The thread-work is delicate, with an evocative fragility. The two and three dimensional pieces operate both separately and together, providing compositional inter-play.
Minimal methods of mark-making, the printed image and the fragile threads of colour, connect the two compositional fields, imbuing the piece with a sense of mystery and unstable energy.
800 x 800mm. Paper, flax fibre, graphite, wax
On encountering multiple
glimpses into fragmented, ambiguous landscapes, we scan for the familiar; a
door, window, some stairs. We may feel a sense
of unease when unknown territory awaits.
The images depict ‘openings’ representing metaphorical windows into the unknown, designed to create a feeling reminiscent of a first encounter with somewhere unfamiliar and new.
W700mm x H1200mm Wings made from plastic milk cartons, cut and partially moulded, wire, stitch. Lit with a single spotlight.
Installation collaboration with Serena Buonaguidi-Haynes.
St, Nelson. NZ 1 - 31 July 2016
When I think of home II
W600 x H250mm Thread, glass, wax
‘the power of a place where formative experiences helped shape identity lives on, a power more remarkable since it relies not on physical presence but only the act of remembering’.
John Percival, Return Migration in Later Life
migrant’s perspective, this quote resonates deeply for me. This artwork addresses memory and
nostalgic association with the landscape I call ‘home’, yet it references a
narrative that can be read as personal or generic. I’m interested in the fact
that we are able to bring associations to places and landscapes which, through
memory, hold a resonance throughout our lives.
When I think of home I
1100 x 1100mm Thread, cotton fabric,
free-hand machine embroidery.
Uprooting myself from my homeland, took some courage, energy and faith in the future. As an artist, the experience also makes for complex influences that frequently manifest in one's work.
I explore ways of visually communicating ideas about memory and nostalgia; life-sized features of the Derbyshire landscape are ‘drawn’ in thread, representing a memory of the rural place I grew up in.
I bring the
heritage of my past from which I draw upon for creative inspiration, the
sustaining roots that allow for fresh growth in my adoptive surroundings. Just
as a tree, my own roots are branching out from the primary root of
my homeland into a myriad of secondary roots of another land I grow to know.
A Way Out
metal mesh, copper wire, glass
A white chair was provided to 12 artists to act as a blank canvas. I chose to express ideas about ‘home’, and what it
My aim with this piece was to create a feeling of
ambiguity; there is no comfort in this chair.
You are standing on the outside of a scene, your view point, as a casual observer, is of a place which has no firm identity. You may be in the present, the past, a memory...
behind closed doors
bruises are hidden
from a sense of shame she hides
her desperately lonely existence, at home
where she lives
on eggshells LP
W200 x H1400mm recycled screen mesh
The love of the raw material always informs my work.
The cast shadows reveal an unexpected form, appearing more voluminous, softer and more delicate than the stiff wire the piece is actually made from.
The circles allude to infinity and completeness, yet they are not perfectly round and are open at the centres, perhaps more reminiscent of a flower, or emotion, about to unfold. But like a flower or emotion they could easily fold back in again.
Home is Where the Hearth Is
After a visit to Collingwood, (NZ), I was deeply affected by a photograph of the town, taken after the devastating fire of 1904. It depicted the remains of burnt down houses, with streets, left defined only by the remaining blackened, brick chimney stacks.
As an artist and migrant, I’m interested in the things that bind people to places, things that only seem to exist to remind us of our past, people and places we love.
In response, I made these glass 'houses' which allude to the ornament. Having sorted through my belongings for the purpose of packing a 20ft container when emigrating to NZ 10 yrs ago, I was surprised by how objects, which had been lying around the house for years, collections and things that had belonged to my parents, keepsakes from friends, all those other irreplaceable and sentimental things, seemed suddenly, to hold such 'emotional value'.
Home: our Sense of Place, Hearth, House
Hearth: our comfort, from the beginning of time to the present day, the hearth symbolically represents home, family life; survival.
Living Memory I and II
Glass, mesh, steel, antique bobbins