(L-R) A Foggy Day In London Town, Red Money, The Man Who Sold The World
Almost Grown (Background: African Night Flight)
(L-R) Don't Look Down, Suffragette City, Join the Gang
(L-R) Speed of Life, Louie Louie, Go Home
(L-R) Oh!You Pretty Things, Fall Dog Bombs the Moon, Moonage Daydream
Hallo Spaceboy
I Am Divine
As the world falls down (tigers), Baby Can Dance
(L-R) Queen Bitch, Prisoner of Love
To my mother, my dog and clowns
A collection of found ceramic figurines, broken and remade. Named after songs by David Bowie and displayed on Victorian What Not's, they are a collection of glorious freaks, a celebration of queerness and difference
I love ceramic figurines; I love how they make the journey from being objects of wonder in childhood to objects of hate in adulthood and back full circle to fond objects in old age. Broken and remade they take on a new life; they converse with each other and adopt personalities.
Each piece has a history, was at some point loved, cleaned, cared for and then discarded to boot sales and charity shops where I discover and rescue them. That history and pathos creates an immediate emotional connection to these anthropomorphic, broken, queer figures.
Oscar Wilde once remarked, “I find it harder and harder every day to live up to my blue china”, I seek to free these overlooked sculptures from the constraints of porcelain perfection to the joy of queer freedom. Each piece has a history, was at some point loved, cleaned, cared for and then discarded to boot sales and charity shops where I discover and rescue them. That history and pathos creates an immediate emotional connection to these anthropomorphic, broken, queer figures.
They subtlety conflate two worlds, a world of idealised perfection and aspiration with the glorious messy, broken reality of life.
I love ceramic figurines; I love how they make the journey from being objects of wonder in childhood to objects of hate in adulthood and back full circle to fond objects in old age. Broken and remade they take on a new life; they converse with each other and adopt personalities.
Each piece has a history, was at some point loved, cleaned, cared for and then discarded to boot sales and charity shops where I discover and rescue them. That history and pathos creates an immediate emotional connection to these anthropomorphic, broken, queer figures.
Oscar Wilde once remarked, “I find it harder and harder every day to live up to my blue china”, I seek to free these overlooked sculptures from the constraints of porcelain perfection to the joy of queer freedom. Each piece has a history, was at some point loved, cleaned, cared for and then discarded to boot sales and charity shops where I discover and rescue them. That history and pathos creates an immediate emotional connection to these anthropomorphic, broken, queer figures.
They subtlety conflate two worlds, a world of idealised perfection and aspiration with the glorious messy, broken reality of life.
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