From a young age, I have had a strong sense that things aren’t right.
As Capitalism is failing, our agency is reducing with it – how do we take back our agency? My philosophical practice attempts to do just that. My enquiry is my resistance, challenging what I know about the world, asking others to do so also, so that we can build a new and more equitable world picture.
Developing out of my over-arching project exploring how Capitalism got into our head and how we get it out, ongoing works try to understand and illuminate discriminatory social practices. Giving form to my critique, research, political and cultural theory is distilled in entertaining ways.
Capitalism is a skilled storyteller, so my focus on storytelling kicks back against systems that whitewash politics and erase histories for blue-chip markets. Like Capitalism, the art world absorbs, mutates, takes on new forms; in the same way, my work responds to uncertainty, considering alternative ways of showing, surviving, and organising. Resisting Capitalism’s speed and production of objects, I am keen to share ideas ethically. This is both in real life and across digital platforms for the networked community, good and bad, I believe, can work collaboratively to make positive change.
And so. My stories about conflict and control blend fact and fiction and mix personal biography with overlooked events from history. The ideas have travelled a long way, the leaky themes, and costumes cross projects.
I approach each work as a painter that chooses not to paint. Finding painting no longer historically possible. However, I start with the desire to retrieve history painting’s sublated good. I am interested in this outmoded and problematic genre’s accessibility, its ability to communicate with diverse audiences and the public it created. It has made me think about new ways of telling and imaging history, but for a multimedia era. This had led me to mixing traditional processes with interactive and broadcast technologies.
Like the history painter of the past, my research goes through a lengthy process: writing, collaging, drawing, and storyboarding, and collaboration across disciplines. Crafted with precision and slow labour, it’s a process of construction. From room-sized graphic novels that people can walk around, the characters drawn in pencil and ink on paper, gesso on board, and painted in oil on laser-cut powder-coated steel, activated by Arduino circuits and proximity sensors, to 3D characters and environments, animation, digital film, and handmade costumes and props. The works are unapologetically wonky. Tender, funny, political, soulful, conflicting, sad; with a largely black and white aesthetic.