Untitled for political reasons
Medium/wood/paint/white box frame glazed with toughened glass.
This piece is very heavy and would take at least three to install.
Original sketch for
Untitled, for political reasons
Part two 0f Untitled for political reasons.
From the very outset I felt that the persecuted character from Untitled for political reasons was a piece in itself and could so strongly hold a resurrection sense about it if bound in linen cloth. Not final at all.
This piece was sparked by the many empty portrait frames crammed into charity shops boxes everywhere. Many, if not most of which once housed loved ones now passed.
It was this sense of absence and loss that drove me to create a space of remembrance of similar presence using the picture frames like classical columns.
The glazed crystal like structure and shimmering water beneath is about projected reflections throughout the structure bringing about a sense of peace.
Medium/Wood glazed structure. 27/9/2014/20:10
Inspired by the historic international sailing regatta taking place every year in the Gulf of Trieste on the second Sunday of October.
Medium/Wood/ply and fibreglass/bees wax polished/1/9/2014/17:35
A merged perspective of humanity, worldly possessions, pets, livestock, and rubbled buildings.
Medium/paint on canvas hardboard/glazed, oak frame
Please excuse the camera reflection in the glass.
I sort of lost my mojo in 2013 and Totem was in response to this.
I don't altogether wish to understand it presence other than I felt it watched out for me.
In my minds eye I was quite specific as to every element of the totem final presence.
Designed to be either free standing or wall mounted.
After my mother's passing, my biggest hurdle was permitting myself to follow a path my mother had always wanted for me. To be happy. And for me, that meant to be an artist. And at that moment, the subject matter I was consumed with was my mother's heartbreaking demise. And to draw on that, then as an artist would have been like prostituting my loss. Until Night Owl
I've always been a very, very light sleeper. If you was to whisper in my ear as I slept, you would wake me.
It was around 2am when I was awoken by the hooting of an owl from a tree outside my bedroom window. We don't have owls this far from the woods I thought. I looked through my window into the night and saw nothing but leafless branches. I hadn't dreampt this as I had heard the owl hooting as I approached the window. Then nothing. Nothing.
So I went back to sleep with my loss.
Normally, whenever I dream about my mother, I am instantly awoken by the same thought. This must be a dream because you are dead. But on one pivotal occasion I didn't. I knew it. I was aware of it. But I didn't say it to myself.
It was as if my mother and an aunt had come to tell me they were fine. I would be fine. And they were moving on. I wasn't told this. I hadn't thought this. I just felt this in my head. And was presented with the thought that this was to be told for the sake of someone else. Then I awoke, sparked to create something.
And in the early hours of that morning (as most slept) I silently cobbled the figure Night owl in my mother's empty bedroom from off cuts of wood, with provisions for this story to be told.
If there is a Rosetta Stone as such to all this, it was my artwork, as it knew where I was when I didn't.
Into The Light
Into the light is based loosely around an idea of mine called Too many that I can't make due to a lack of both budget and large enough location to build it.
Both parents are represented in the two circles of the half Celtic cross gravestone/axe at the foot of a grave. These circles/parents are looking down onto the child warmly wrapped in a blanket held over the inevitable grave.
Both the gravestone and ground beneath the grave surface have a black base undercoat. The child and grave surface are in a white base undercoat.
Model for a 6 foot tall polished white grained marble public sculpture.
Boxroom17 evokes as many fond memories of my youth by way of its construction as it does now the finished piece.
It was my intention to use nothing but an assemblage of off-cuts of timber from past projects for this piece. Almost like building with odd Lego blocks as I did when a child.
In total, only seven small cuts were made to accommodate the clock movement.
It represents all the small spaces that had nurtured me throughout my youth and the very cramped spaces that later doubled as much a studio as a bedroom.
From the single pillow on the bed, to the maze like route around the bed to the wardrobe. To the little portable TV, table, and stool at the foot of the bed. To the rug at the left of that tv. To the books and bookends on the top of the clock towering over the bed. To the triangular sculpture on the ledge to the left of the wardrobe. To the canvas stretchers on top of the wardrobe. To the awkward view through the window/door to the right of the pillow. To the giant light switch on the wall at the right foot of the bed. These are all personally iconic symbols of those times to mark a few.
Hopefully this piece presents itself in some way as I may have in my early youth.
It's been a fond blast from the past evoking many memories I had boxed away.
The clock anchors those moments to the present. Until it stops.
Battery Clock with bell chime and Pendulum.