All the works shown in this exhibition are connected. They are process-led in terms of making, but also the thinking behind their making. This could be achieved through printmaking because the medium lends itself well to adaptation and change. Essentially, I have immersed myself in a sequence of construction, deconstruction and reconstruction. 

For years I have been seeking a way of drawing attention to potential future flooding of this particular landscape. Drawings risk becoming too diagrammatic, moving image works express the time element in climate change, but no other medium has enabled me to capture the prospective landscape.

When I talk about ‘landscape’ I use it in two ways – to refer to the physical, material landscape, the other to the tradition of landscape art. The geology or the picturesque. I’ve tried to bring these things together through processes of grinding earth, melting ice, filming time, rubbing collapsing cliff faces.

The material landscape has evolved over time and will reconstruct itself again and again (if we allow it to). These prints have done the same. I have pushed them to their limit in some ways. They are still ‘pictures’ in terms of art, but they have been recycled, upcycled, printed, cut up, reprinted, rearranged, reprinted and finally manifested as objects. 

They are ‘meta’ in the true meaning of the word (i.e. not Facebook).

(of a creative work) referring to itself or to the conventions of its genre; self-referential. “the enterprise is inherently ‘meta’, since it doesn’t review movies, for example, it reviews the reviewers who review movies”.

Meta is endless, like a room of mirrors. The tetrapak sculptures create a pause for me. I wrote a poem years ago about two milk cartons, one was nearly full, the other nearly empty. Sadly I can’t find a copy to share. I recall lifting them up, feeling their weight, noting their difference. By reconstructing the tetrapak prints I have attempted to reconstruct the landscape too, and compare between now and the future. The final process to ensure the delicate paper cartons don’t topple, I cast plaster blocks of slightly different weights. A liquid made solid, like ice. Which I have used in other works. 

The sequence of construction, deconstruction and reconstruction has resulted in large prints, smaller prints, mini-prints and even circular prints on cards. It is the nature of many printmaking processes that they can be repeatedly printed. The use of the same plates over and over again is like a family tree.

That I can pick up the landscape in my hand and feel the weight reminds me it is in our hands. 

The cartons are fragile, and made with Hahnemuhle paper. If you wish to carefully pick them up, and feel the weight yourself, please ask for a glove to do so.

Thank you.

(I accidentally came upon an old post which could be relevant to this one – do have a read if you like this one.)

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