PSEUDO-STATEMENT

My practice investigates the possibility of experiencing the sublime through encounters of artificial nature, and how this uncanny feeling contributes to the sense of belonging. The obsessive grappling of each encounter often generates automatic paintings, whiteboard diagrams, wounded confessions, heartfelt letters, and amateur natural history displays.

I am interested in dissecting the simultaneous existence of seemingly opposing human emotions within a visceral, time-capsuled encounter.  Much like the sublime, which may manifest as an overwhelming sense of wonder and terror, I have always felt a staggering attraction-repulsion particularly in confronting natural history dioramas. 

I am drawn to such artificial forms of nature: indoor water parks, amusement park foliage, packaged tourist experiences, animal toy figures, planned city parks, cartoon depictions, and dinosaur animatronics. These tension points ask me if I have ever witnessed ‘real’ nature - and if, as spectators, we secretly relish the fictional, hyperreal craft of these immersions as part of a collective performance; if it satisfies a yearning for something impossible (to put into words). 

I enjoy stepping into pseudo-fictional characters to perform my part and bring clarity to such conflicting encounters. 

In the installation All of a Sudden I Held a Carcass in My Hands (And I Could Not Bury It) [2022], I was taken over by a character who was engulfed by the objects they collected: an outmoded camera, plastic animal toys, a tree branch, and some photographic slides of their birthplace that they could not recognise. To cope, confessions were scribbled on pieces of paper and wood, fuelled further by the omnipresent haunting of a metaphorical train. 

After my desperate attempts to revive The Outmoded Camera to no avail, it had truly felt like I was holding a carcass, a piece of history past its time. A Party (A Funeral) was a grappling of the swimming forces between me and Object during our confrontations. To simultaneously celebrate and grieve this arresting collection, I embraced the spirit of The Amateur to mimic a natural history display case to contain it, taxidermy pins and all.  

*Note: I have recently returned to Ōtautahi Christchurch, New Zealand (mid 2024, after 10+ years) and am currently confronting my practice and identities.