I use art to be a voyeur. I’m obsessed with people: how they were raised, how they hold themselves, how they live out their philosophies or project their voices. Over time, this curiosity has led me from family members to strangers: an East London property developer, a transhumanist in Moscow, an expat libertarian in Delhi, a life coach in Vilnius, polyamorous people met through dating apps, and more recently, queer and trans people trying to have families.
I work across drawing, painting, video, radio broadcast and performance. Video projects can be a kind of live container, where I gather things as they shift and evolve. Painting lets me crystallise moments, gestures and objects. Writing gives me distance and a way to weave narrative and reflection. Recent research into queer reproduction developed as part of my DPhil has manifested in my debut feature-length documentary which premiered at BFI Flare last year, and my play Happy Baby will be published by Montez Press later this year and toured as a live performance.
I work with fragments: a glance, a surface, a voice, a glass dildo, a gold ring, an exchange, a wet reverberating shout, feet in the air, devotional hands clasped, eyes skyward, tarmac, grit, leather, all heads turn. Being short-sighted, I rely on a zoom lens and a shotgun microphone - tools that grant me a kind of augmented reality. In close-up, composition shifts. Pencils and paint offer further distillation and abstraction, tracing the anatomy and scale of things and people, how they lean, how they present. I keep notes, anecdotes, diary entries, sound clips, and sometimes interviews. The people who appear in my work might sing or play instruments, and often help score performances or video works.
Viewers are invited to look closely but are refused tidy explanations. Sometimes it is about learning, though more often it is about lingering with feeling, honesty, humour, and complexity.