Mattering In Time: Durations of You, Me and The Universe, 2015
An installation of four entangled works.
single channel video, 4 hours 19 minutes
single channel video, 4 minutes 32 seconds
deconstructed Tablespoon, section of a dining table, steel
deconstructed teapot, table salt, section of a dining table, steel
Images: Document Photography
Where do we start and where do we end? 2015
found Table spoons
A series of ongoing material explorations, a series of spoons that have been transformed, disfigured, disrupted. This is a way of discovering what incoherence can look like, and researching the allegorical potential between an incoherent spoon and a disrupted sense of self.
Brass, steel, elastic, paint, hydrocal
Cranes from construction sites around Sydney. They are signs of change, but as 'temporary' additions to our skyline it seems easy to edit them out of the mind's eye. Noticed or not, cranes continue to work. They are often still in the mornings and evenings- but never in the same place. Their shifting configurations suggest a pace that is out of step with the rest of their surroundings.
Intimate Details, 2015
Nickle-silver, sterling silver, brass.
While travelling we were frequently passing through new streets from place to place. On these liminal journeys I found myself fascinated by the exteriors of buildings. I would imagine how they were made – who decided on that detail, that colour, that pattern?
Inside the German town of Idar-Oberstein I noticed many houses with wooden shingling across their exterior walls. These surfaces left a lasting impression on me. Their variations were so human. At times each piece of wood looked as though it had been cut by hand, the patterns were sometimes wonky and sometimes perfect. I could imagine people climbing ladders and hammering nails. These huge exterior walls shut me out from the intimacy of the interior, but they also held so many traces of human design and the human touch: intimate moments of thinking and making. The traces allowed me a small closeness to the people of the town, something I was grateful for as a traveller, briefly passing through.