Float

As anyone who has gazed up at the dust motes that float in the shaft of  projected light in a cinema can tell you, there seems to be an intimate connection between dust and light. As a development from work I had produced in response to Brantwood (Ruskin’s Chair) I continued to tinker with these elements, using sheets of glass as revelatory surfaces, almost like a scientist uses glass slides. Glass as a material has always struck me as a little bit ‘magic’ - a liquid that is dry to the touch - it’s a trickster in the world of stuff, it’s everywhere in our lives but is not designed to be seen. Sometimes it’s only when covered by that other everywhere/nowhere material, dust, that we are made aware of it.

A place was temporarily offered to me in the form of a sort of architectural left-over space - polished concrete facing a wall of glass with a carpeted space between. This space served no purpose, it didn’t lead anywhere and wasn’t used by anyone, it literally just seemed like an empty space. So I experimented with the materials of that place, unframed glass (leaning it makes it so much more precarious!) cement in its powder, dust form, and I subverted and ‘corralled’ them with the use of light, allowing me to pursue a long fascination with the chaos of matter, and in particular the frisson of edge.