84 Square Metres, Floating, 2020-2023
see book dummy:
Moving The Goalposts (2024)
https://www.blurb.co.uk/bookstore/invited/10246847/545cc41385e5d5263952e28a01f41bbc3cce1665
84 Square Metres, Floating ( 2023)
https://www.blurb.co.uk/bookstore/invited/9891484/4fc827059985dc82dc9e42742526b9f1ea7152d3
We live on a houseboat, and the boat moves up and down with the changing water levels and is buffeted by the wind. Floating on water echoes the feeling of being unsettled during the first weeks of spring 2020. I saw moments of light and shadow in my home and photographed shapes created daily by the unpredictable natural light. The daily search for images developed into a ritual, into a project lasting for more than a year.
For the first weeks of lockdown, I waited in silence for the light to illuminate the 84 square metres space of our home. Each morning, the sun highlighted new details, and later, the evening sun illuminated shapes in different parts of the boat. The quality of light changed; in winter and early spring, the sun is low and streams through the windows, filling the boat with dancing reflections,
while in summer and autumn, the light needed to make its way through the leaves of the surrounding trees and was much softer.
I was absorbed in the timeless process of photographing shapes and forms, revealing a beauty that is only there for a brief moment, resulting in a feeling of contentment. The photographs show little of the space we occupy, rather a view of the color and shapes of the surfaces. The search for something quiet enabled me to withdraw.
Sitting in the same space in February 2023, now voluntarily, and revisiting these images, I am still surrounded by the same objects I photographed, illuminating details: my grandfather's paintings, framed photographs, kitchen utensils, chairs, curtains, marks on walls, and the floor. The light is still highlighting details, but I am unable to continue photographing them. Looking through my vast lockdown archive of images, instead, I look for associations of line, plain color, light, and shadows.
A closer look exposes familiar objects. I create visual connections of these multiple shapes overlapping in the frame, exploring what these moments have in common. This process acts as a catalyst for triggering memories which go beyond the pandemic. The images play with perspective, distortion, color, and distance, creating unexpected beauty through the shift of context.
84 mounted photographs are organised in an interrupted grid with 6 rows and 18 columns with equal sized gutters, the installation size is at least 165cm high and 400 cm wide
Each images is 25cm high X 18.8 cm wide
Moving The Goalposts (2024)
https://www.blurb.co.uk/bookstore/invited/10246847/545cc41385e5d5263952e28a01f41bbc3cce1665
84 Square Metres, Floating ( 2023)
https://www.blurb.co.uk/bookstore/invited/9891484/4fc827059985dc82dc9e42742526b9f1ea7152d3
We live on a houseboat, and the boat moves up and down with the changing water levels and is buffeted by the wind. Floating on water echoes the feeling of being unsettled during the first weeks of spring 2020. I saw moments of light and shadow in my home and photographed shapes created daily by the unpredictable natural light. The daily search for images developed into a ritual, into a project lasting for more than a year.
For the first weeks of lockdown, I waited in silence for the light to illuminate the 84 square metres space of our home. Each morning, the sun highlighted new details, and later, the evening sun illuminated shapes in different parts of the boat. The quality of light changed; in winter and early spring, the sun is low and streams through the windows, filling the boat with dancing reflections,
while in summer and autumn, the light needed to make its way through the leaves of the surrounding trees and was much softer.
I was absorbed in the timeless process of photographing shapes and forms, revealing a beauty that is only there for a brief moment, resulting in a feeling of contentment. The photographs show little of the space we occupy, rather a view of the color and shapes of the surfaces. The search for something quiet enabled me to withdraw.
Sitting in the same space in February 2023, now voluntarily, and revisiting these images, I am still surrounded by the same objects I photographed, illuminating details: my grandfather's paintings, framed photographs, kitchen utensils, chairs, curtains, marks on walls, and the floor. The light is still highlighting details, but I am unable to continue photographing them. Looking through my vast lockdown archive of images, instead, I look for associations of line, plain color, light, and shadows.
A closer look exposes familiar objects. I create visual connections of these multiple shapes overlapping in the frame, exploring what these moments have in common. This process acts as a catalyst for triggering memories which go beyond the pandemic. The images play with perspective, distortion, color, and distance, creating unexpected beauty through the shift of context.
84 mounted photographs are organised in an interrupted grid with 6 rows and 18 columns with equal sized gutters, the installation size is at least 165cm high and 400 cm wide
Each images is 25cm high X 18.8 cm wide
