“Currently, soil as a medium has taken over my life. What started as just an experiment has become a muddy relationship.”
What is your creative starting point when imagining a new piece of work and bringing it to fruition?
Typically I’ll be online and I’ll find something that’ll catch my attention. In my work, I try to
marry the past and our present, so a lot of ideas come from articles on current environmental affairs and watching a ton of archaeology videos on Youtube. I’ll find something that links, and I’ll go from there.
What was it that first drew you to the natural world? Was it something you were interested in as a child?
When I was a kid, I remember we used to go every year to Ibiza as a family on one of those package resort holidays. Every night we’d go to the hotel’s restaurant for dinner and I’d climb up on to this patch of grass and crawl around looking for lizards. I distinctly remember that the grass in the resort was different to that of the grass at home. It was spiky, almost like thick paper, and in the heat it would almost hurt when my flip-flop fell off. Everywhere I’d go after that I’d be comparing different blades of grass and that kind of grew into my fascination today with the outdoors.
What were some early creative influences?
When I was in secondary school, I did a project
in art class all about different tree barks. My teacher showed me the works of Andy Goldsworthy,
Ana Mendieta and Richard Long, and my mind
just exploded. I don’t think I understood their
work at an intellectual level, like, at all – but I remember it really broadened my creative process from there onwards.
Describe where you work now.
I’m currently in my Clapton studio, which I’ve been in since the beginning of the pandemic. It’s an awesome space that’s flooded with light and encased in concrete. The light’s honesty is what’s needed for making sculpture. I’ve got a couple of wild neighbours, but who doesn’t, and it’s right next to the Walthamstow Marshes, which is a treat for when I need to take a breather from making and there’s a Co-op down the road that has pretty terrible vegetarian sandwiches, so I wouldn’t go there if animals are your friends. Sadly I’m leaving this studio soon and moving over to my new one in Lea Bridge, but I’ve had a great time here and having this space has done wonders for my work.
You have worked in many mediums, from mould to creative interactive simulations. Do you have a preference? How does the medium inform the piece, or vice versa? Is there a medium that you haven’t yet worked with but would like to?
I don’t like the idea of tying myself up with one medium. It all really depends on the project and what I’m trying to get across. If I’m making a point about a series of works that create “zero waste”, I’m not going to choose a material which is wasteful. The digital experiences I work on every so often take a lot of time, as it’s not my main focus, but the works you can create in digital software allow my big ideas to be realised. In Green Screen, a work I made in UE4 software, I visualised a living, breathing forest confined to a movie studio, to talk about the confinement of green space within our cities. The Clapton studio can’t really bring this dream to reality. Until you see me at Venice Biennale – where I’m telling big stories in big ways and flipping the bird to every cruise ship that sails past – UE4 will be the caretaker of these larger ideas. I don’t understand why a lot of creators limit themselves to only a single medium, especially when they have so many stories to tell.
What are you currently working on? Has the pandemic influenced the way you work, or the pieces you intend to create?
Currently, soil as a medium has taken over my life. What started as just an experiment has become a muddy relationship. With shops being closed during the pandemic and resources wearing thin, I had come up with a way of telling stories on budget with a first-class finish. The process is long with soil, to say the least, as it takes two weeks for the cast soil bricks to dehydrate. Once they do, I can construct them into all manner of things. Any “waste” soil in the casting process is swept up and thrown into a bucket ready to be turned into next week’s cast delight. The pandemic has created a lot of challenges for artists globally, but it’s been a great time for growth and has allowed us to take a step back to consider what it is we really want to say.
My friend Marco Galvan wants to exhibit all of the soil works I’ve been working on during the pandemic. It’s really exciting and we are just trying to work out when is the best time to do it. We’d love for everyone to be on top spirits and not be freaking out when someone sneezes. I’m also in the early stages of planning a collaborative project with my friend George Stuart, where we explore the UK making work with naturally formed clay. Lots of exciting things on the horizon, in and out of the studio.
How do you bring in your environmental consciousness to everyday life?
I don’t really consume much. I typically have the same clothes or goods for years and years, and only purchase something new if the current one is falling apart. I’m incredibly mindful of waste, to the point where I feel guilty for throwing something in the trash if it can’t be recycled as I envision it ending up in a landfill. It’s kind of a bit of a problem but it’s just something we have to deal with until the big companies finally pull themselves together. I try to educate people, without sounding like a whiner, about environmental issues and how they can change their lives in the smallest of ways to help better the planet. I saw something the other day about the white rhino being extinct now (it may or may not be true; Instagram is known to spread the odd lie/myth) and I just compulsively shouted it out for all my friends to hear. Humans are the worst.
How do you know when something is finished?
Typically with my work, as it primarily revolves around casting things in multitude, defining the end is really tricky. I will typically state a number of components I need to make a work in the planning process – but I usually go way above that once I’ve reached that planned goal. I’ll go for months casting something over and over again every single day, and then one day it’s just enough. Because the process is so long, with some pieces I’ll be working on them for months. It feels strange to stop working on it as it’s been an essential part of the daily routine.
What do you think your most important piece has been so far?
Hmm…. My first big casting project was a work I made called Pumpkin Spiced Latte back in autumn 2018. I have never counted how many concrete conkers/chestnuts I cast, but it’s a lot and it took me the entirety of autumn to finish the project. I remember showing it at an exhibition I put together at the end of 2018. When I poured them out of the sack I stored them in for display, they rolled and fell into the place they were supposed to be, just like in autumn when they fall from the trees. I was amazed by how they fell in multitude, rolling and colliding with each other. I remember thinking that I had accomplished what I set out to do.
