A BRUTALIST FAIRYTALE
REALISM & ROMANTICISM
If I had to efficiently sum up my inspirations and aesthetics, I would turn to the Alexander McQueen ‘Shipwreck’ gown, from his Irere collection, produced in 1997.
Like all of McQueen’s work, this gown is constructed with his simultaneously exquisite understanding of traditional tailoring and his affinity with strong, haunted and wild feminine forms.
The Bronte-esque ghosts in 'Wallstreet' cuts that repeatedly emerged in his shows empowered femininity without neglecting its strength. McQueen's work almost always carries a narrative, and though his work often came with 'the shock of the new' a strong romanticism always breaks through.
In my work I strive to convey both the strength and physicality, as well as the ethereal and sensory qualities of dance.
When I began creating I thought my love for Brutalist, minimal, Modernist design had no place in representing the etherial and delicate properties of ballet... but as I braved incorporating it in to my style, it became clear that fusing these two opposing aesthetics was the perfect way for me to reflect the multifaceted jewel that is ballet - A tale of incredible grit and determination, resulting in polished, emotionally moving art. Each attribute as vital as the other and in need of acknowledgement and so, I've come to seek this 'Brutalist Fairytale' in all of my work.
SKETCHING IN CLAY - SCULPTING IN PENCIL
I sketch in clay, I sculpt in pencil. My working method seems to always approach from ‘backstage’ …dismantled, minimal, inside-out. I revell at the frame supporting the illusion, the artists who make their body the instrument for creativity and narrative.
This is a utilitarian approach to a subject of deep passion. It's hard to resist 'the tulle and tiara' but there is so much more magic in these spectacular performers to focus on.
I’ve leaned into the asymmetry, ‘roughness’ and minimalism of my work, this is where my focus lives, the free exactitude of a beautiful, complex form in motion.
As artists we value tradition but the pressure to ‘finish’ and 'perfect' our portrayal of every subject has always been a riddle - I looked at my minimal line works and asked 'when is it finished'? (or enough) and we're so often taught that drawings are merely unfinished preliminaries.
Surely the measure is based, ironically quite traditionally, on the purpose of the artwork? If I ‘dress it up’ and weight it down in realism and tradition then I polish away the ethereal friction of my subject.
My job has become clearer, if these pieces remain 'just drawings' I am satisfied, because they do what they are designed to do - holding the detailed and sharp, ever-moving facets of these incredibly skilled individuals up to the light.
