My work centres the ephemeral, the fleeting, and the misremembered.
In performance, event, and writing, I construct manifestations of chaos and candor that are intimately communal; a viewer might feel invigorated by the fleetingness of the work, like watching a film in a dark room with the knowledge it will soon be over. My work seeks to celebrate and revel in the ephemerality of these moments. I feel I am forever chasing a specific Feeling; the feeling of finding something exciting in a cluttered antique shop, the feeling of knowing someone appreciates an old movie in the exact same way you do, the feeling of saying “cheers” in the pub with your closest comrades! These instances, however small, however fleeting, are the essence of what we mean to each other.
I often look to half-forgotten histories, inviting the methods of the past to have a presence in and around the present. Social histories of medieval printing presses, early 20th century cinemas, and renegade Dadaist circuses all inform and underpin the things I make. This presence might be material, in the use of analogue mediums such as letterpress printing or town-crier-esque performance, or it might be more theoretical, in the repurposing of forgotten formats and forgotten stories.
This ties in to thoughts of historical engagement and dismantling hierarchies, self-organisation and collaboration in a horizontal, non-hierarchical way. Books and zines, like films, have historically remained portable and distributable. They are ephemeral, transitive, but ultimately uniting in their cheapness (or free-ness! freedom!) and radical accessibility. The solitary and the communal in an eternal tryst; for each and for every.
What does art look like when it isn’t screwed to a gallery wall? When it can be held, shaped, and warped?
Taking real stories, and unravelling them, warping them until — they become anachronistic ghosts of their former selves, inviting all the chaos and contexts of then, now, and always.