Survival Kit for the Soul (2000)

Found and made objects:1 bandage (slatire blue), 1 container (whisky), 1 lightbulb (white chocolate), 1 lump coal (coated in wax)

The ability to absorb information and understand the purpose or implications of objects and how they function is for me the basis of my work. Objects have a character that is moulded by what they do for you i.e. what are the associations/symbolic content which we attach to them.

The first is a shared experience; everybody knows what a ladder is but not everybody knows what a ladder means. Certainly nobody knows what a ladder really means to anybody else. I am interested in this, not perhaps because of the possible juxtapositions between symbols but because of the connections between different meanings that exist directly at the basis of the object.

I have my own set of associations with objects, as does everybody but what I am trying to do is use these objects as a vehicle for moving around these associations and seeing which ones connect. (1998)

Cerberus (1998)

Wood and cast paper (dictionary)

Whenever I succeed in making a piece of art. I succeed in crystallizing some aspect of experience, or a number of ideas into one dense concept, the secrets of which may or may not be unlocked by the viewer.

Making art, for me, is a process of conscious reflection that attempts to understand the different connected ideas that exist in my mind. It is a plumbing of the depths of the mystery that is infinite semiosis. My aim is to clarify my ideas and experiences through making art. I try to leave nothing in my work that has not passed through my thought process. I aim to be conscious of the entire process, leaving nothing to chance. Ambiguity is of course unavoidable and often intentional. The process of making art for me is rather like tying a knot in a fabric of integrated ideas, making it visible and available to be unraveled by the viewer. My sculpture is a visual cue to explore meaning, memory and mind. (1998)

Raft (2000)

Found and made objects (delivery palette)

I must be clear about my methods and my choice of materials as much as the initial impulse of an idea that sparks off a work. They are all parts of the whole; if one part is uncared for then the work will quite plainly miss the mark, feel awkward or at worst be bad!

It’s not that every decision in art has to be backed by a reasoned argument. It’s not that it all has to be made plain and simple. It is about creating the right feeling in the work, which can so easily be sabotaged by sloppy welding or the choice of the wrong material. Anything used to make sculpture has its own history and connotations whether it’s the industrial malleability and precision of steel or the weight and solidity of stone. The decisions made in using a material are those that align the ideas to be communicated to the best possible vehicle for the job. (1998)

The Philosophers Raincoat (1998)

Found and made objects (hat stand and dictionary)

What I am finding that interests me in my thoughts about art is how to clarify the message in my work. I am attempting to communicate in as lucid and uncomplicated way as I can find. Dealing with the esoteric is difficult as it is hidden but I find that I am also dealing with personal questions of identity, philosophy, psychology and the ultimate impermanence of existence.

It is not a style that I seek, but coherence, continuity between individual pieces that identifies the work as mine. There are to many decisions required in making work, so many false faces and ways that a work may take. The smallest detail must be examined in order to maintain the clarity of the idea in the work. Anything that detracts attention from the intention I put in the work marks a departure from the process of communication. Indeed everybody has their own interpretation of a work, but the point is to make the connections as smooth as possible. (1998)

Utopia (2000)

Found and made objects (suitcase and atlas)

All of my best work seems to come from a great deal of thought. Sometimes ideas will click into place quickly sometimes not.

I tend to have moments of inspiration where a very strong idea is formed quickly but it appears to have come from nowhere. I have to work backwards from there because this is the crucial point. It is a birth of an idea but often it is an idea without context. If it can be traced back to other ideas then it is a good idea and can be built on as part of a continuity in my work. If not then it is probably a bad idea.

Once this is verified then it needs sustenance so it doesn’t fade. This comes under awareness and is where intention begins to focus. By focusing on the idea and filtering through the possibilities, excluding all that is not part of the intention a formulation starts to take place. Idea and intention fuse as one. Here the work is truly underway. Here you can start to bring the work out into the open finding the most suitable form for its existence in the material world. (1999)

Restless (1999)

Modified chair

We live in a world of ever increasingly complex forms. The substance of which, in our material world, is continually being upgraded as we impress our indelible personal and cultural imprints on it.

Forms within the practical and useful world of utensils for example start to take on a meaning beyond the initial purpose out of which they were born. A meaning projected onto them through continual contact with them throughout our lives.

We begin to associate events with them; they become part of our memories as they take part in our everyday activities. They become mirrors for our personal experiences. Universally they become symbolic, carrying meanings across cultural boundaries. They are points of connection so complicit in our everyday activities that we are unaware of how much they say about us. They are points of such magnetic power that taken out of their everyday context they become a vehicle for meaningful exchange. They resonate with associations and experiences mediating like a language. (1996)

Harmful (2000)

Paint, petrol, canvas, bottles

I have chosen to use everyday objects precisely because they are part of the fabric of our society. As such, they are, in their own right, a form of language. Communication is all about effective use of language with perhaps poetry and binary code being the extremes.

I certainly tend towards viewing my works as poetic. What has always fascinated me about poetry and indeed any good piece of writing is it’s compactness, the weight of information/images delivered in a very sparse pared down manner. Poems are rarely simple, yet their structure would at first appear so. If I can manage to produce work that somehow does that then I will be very happy. (1996)