In towns and cities, change is a constant. Hurrying amongst strangers we pass by road works and demolition sites, we encounter refurbishment and renovation, dereliction and neglect. In these places, man-made and organic forms exist side by side, in light and shade, often intertwined in incongruous or even chaotic fashion. Like an archaeologist, I am drawn to the layers that may reveal themselves in these sites of continuous transition. My lens hones in on space dividing structures made of glass, meshes or fences, and on the traces left upon them by human action or the forces of nature. These layers seem emblematic of the complexities inherent in our contemporary life; they offer thresholds between visual fields that both conceal and expose; their fusions and confusions dissolving into forms and gestures; a meditation.
Whilst much of contemporary photography sees itself liberated from the traditionally accepted functions of the medium, my own practice remains fully invested in its indexical quality and is intent on navigating around the paradox that lies at its heart; the unique capacity to simultaneously represent and transform ‘the real’. Stripped and hijacked from its three dimensional context, objective reality is metamorphosed into flat, rectangular surfaces. This sets up an intriguing tension, for what we see in a photograph strikes us as both familiar and strange. In the words of David Campany, photographs “… show but they don't tell. They describe but they don't explain. They are factual enigmas.”
The approach we adopt when ‘capturing’ the realities around us denotes how we seek to embrace or reject our world. Perhaps, with time, these photographs of our material surroundings become just so many dusty mirrors to our individual and collective psyche.
In an era of contested truths, rigid fences and borders, I seek refuge in the fact that, as a photographer, I can be ‘Alice through the looking glass', digging beneath appearances, asking questions, looking again, in awe and wonderment.