In all of my work the same preoccupations keep returning, themes of loss and the transience of light. It could be that light is a metaphor for memory, time passing and perhaps an unpredictable event or mark on the paper will trigger off another direction and then the light changes again. The work I am showing is ever changing and never finished, but it has reached the end of a chapter in the story so far.
One preoccupation I have is an honoured respect for the subliminal role the choice of media plays in everything I make.
A sheet hung up in a New York apartment in January captures my grandchild Kit’s beautiful shadow as he dances. Twenty minutes passed and then the light was gone. It is now a memory.
A series of black and white photos recording the demolition of a block of homes in Tower Hamlets is caught, and then manipulated in order for them to tell a story about the lives that have lived there behind the concrete and glass. Another memory.
Past residents of our exhibition venue at 73-75 Grosvenor Street included the Royal physician Mathew Baillie, partly blamed for the still birth of Princess Charlotte’s baby and accredited as pioneer in obstetric practice. The house’s history is captured on slides. A text is written, photographed and then erased an overwritten.