Recently I’ve been involved in a show at
Copeland Park, Peckham, exhibiting as part of the
Art Licks Weekend 2016. The exhibition was about using whatever space was available in the industrial park and artworks would shift and move during the exhibition. Things had to be moved because they were blocking CCTV, sculptures were wheeled off out of the way of moving cars and stalls cropping up, some got lost for a bit. Constraints, ways of viewing, curating, and logistics were totally different to a gallery. Sculptures dripped from building’s corners, waved from telephone wires, snaked around and on top of shipping crates, and leaned against buildings. The show really became about what it was to place sculptures in public space.
Back in the studio I’ve been thinking about the impermanence of showing and making works, and the connection between the work, the materials and the space. I’m still recovering from glandular fever; it’s led me to working more gently on the sewing machine, and still considering materials that are about work and from workplaces. This turned into the piece,
Stained Rag Windows. I was thinking about the beauty of
Attic, the project space at
One Thoresby Street and the incredible windows here and all around Nottingham’s industrial buildings. It made me consider the illuminated wall decorations of stained glass windows, their preciseness to fit the space of a window and how they usually tell a story.
