It's a single project, but it's in two parts. The single object is a concrete form, and it's a sign,
so it's sculptural, but it's also a language-based object. And then, the other piece, is based
in a powder magazine, and it's discovered via a sign, so you enter the work via the QR code on
the door of a building, and that takes you into a website, which has a number of other works
inside it. It's something that's working between a more determined sculptural form, and questions
of language and how you describe things. Part of what it does, is think about how you might
describe the particular action, like the action of walking, and how that becomes something that's
interrupted by the flow of language, that starts to get in the way of the actual act of walking.
I was interested in histories of migration to Gravesend, and the importance of community
groups as species of resistance, and species that hold alternative knowledge. And there's
two parts to the work. There's the sculpture, and some sound. This sculpture, it looks like a
full marble wave of water, with a head protruding from it, which has long hair tied up into a top
knot. And the sound is made in collaboration with Irene Bailey and the Saheli Women's group,
through a series of listening workshops. Both the sculpture and the sound, they think about
where knowledge is held, and the spiritual, and the sacred significance, of practices that have
moved over with people, and I think the most important part of the work is, perhaps the site.
It holds such a resonance with the community, and the histories that are being spoken about
The sculpture is of an Iraq War veteran in the UK named Daniel Taylor.
The story that leaves me breathless, in this whole sort of process that we've been through together,
was when I visited London, and the sculpture was about to be cast. I visited Daniel for dinner at
his home, and he said, “I have something for you”, and he brought out a bag that had the
items he wanted to go into the sculpture, and at the very bottom of the bag was his medal.
And I said to him, “Listen we spoke about this, and you told me that it's proof of service,
and it's proof that allows for veterans to get the care that they need, and that it was a kind
of currency.” He said, “Yeah, but it's time to spend it.” And so, one of the things that you'll
see in that sculpture is his medal, which for me, is the center of gravity of the work, because
it stands there in solidarity with all the other items that people from Veterans for Peace, and
local residents of Kent, have donated to go into that, sculpture.
Making a bit of research, I discovered this Folkestone place was like a, Roman place also,
and that took me to the Roman Gods. Then I found this Janus head. So I decided to construct this
huge head, made out of plaster. The idea of this giant's head is to protect, like, the entrances,
and this is a perfect place to do so, because it is riding the cliffs that face the other side,
that is France in this case. So I thought it was an interesting place to install this Janus
head that protects, and also see how people are living, and how people are coming in that's really
interesting, like, in this moment specifically, not only because of Brexit also, because of
Corona, Hastings Contemporary has a kind of space that was almost made for a work like this, which
is kind of an outdoor courtyard. I was always fascinated with these concrete blocks that they
put inside the water, to build sea walls, sort of, protective barriers, or break waters.
And so, I made a kind of facsimile of the sea wall. It's a block made out of a composite foam,
and then covered with Inkjet printed vinyl, upon upholstery, but it looks heavy and concrete,
and then it's, like, lightweight and soft, so people can use it to sit on
and they sort of construct their own seawall. They become the work. When people use them
so, they kind of look like a sculpture, but then they also, the work is completed when the public
decides to interact, or not so. Putting it out in public is a very important part of that process.
The work is a three-part sculpture that's making various conjoined materials, and
the work wraps itself on the grass, and then, through the building itself, extends your sight,
kind of under the ground, in a way. I was thinking a lot about the building itself of the De La Warr,
as something that stands like a kind of architectural cliff on the edge of the sea.
I was thinking a lot about edges, as this idea of breakdown, and erosion, but also,
a barrier. This idea of the worm became a really important metaphor for that, as something that
can bypass borders, infiltrate edges, and what that does to, like, the outline of something.
Worms literally sink foundations, or rocks through, undermining, and burying under them,
and so it's these kind of, like, little actions with big consequences. I hope it kind of creates
another kind of atmosphere, of something that is more related to sci-fi, or something,
as well. It's kind of monstrous, and it's quite literal in that sense, but it takes on this,
kind of, specific form, or specific character, and that feels quite different from my other works.
Well, this work started from the idea of making an image in a landscape, and also recovering the
story of two women from Eastbourne. One is the beachy Woman, which are the human remains that
were found in a beach. And the second are also the human remains of another woman, more from the
16th century. And I kind of put these two stories together, and I converted it into a giant profile
of an imaginary female character. The visitors of the project can walk through this path that
will be partially drawn on the floor, and there will be, also, objects that are related to the
archaeological findings, that we made replicas of, and we embedded them into the concrete.
So it's a bit of a, search and find project, that is partially visible and partially invisible.