My next exhibition
Some feel a connection to the forest, for others it’s the sea, or rocks and crags. Round here it’s the Peaks, but for many the buzz of the urban feels like home. Regardless of where though, it seems that many of us have a deep sense of belonging, of place, reinforced by the comforting embrace of our preferred environment. And regardless of where, that environment is a built one. We have shaped our world, encouraged some biomes to flourish at the expense of others, slashed and burnt, dug, quarried and levelled the earth, even recycled shaped material to a new purpose. Our conflict, overconsumption and waste also colour our world. Be it city or wooded valley, fenland or rocky outcrop, reservoir or ocean, we are the creators of the surface of our world, and this means we are never far from our history. At least ten ages of humanity have passed since the end of the last ice age, and an infinity of stories are bound to our landscape, most untold.
Drawn from discarded objects, decaying remnants of our past, and the more recent relics of the age we are leaving, A sense of ancient stories references that history, personal and distant, recent and old, each painting a book jacket suggesting the world within. Some may resonate with you more than others. But all will resonate with someone, for the tales caught up in our works are the tales of many lives, and for some the only reminder of those lives. What may be most telling is the extent to which we cling to the familiar landscape even as we write new stories in steel and glass – maybe we don’t see a place for ourselves on those fresh pages?