Working in the construction field taught me how to “read” an old building. Where it’s been built upon or modified, how it’s weathered, and all the marks people have made on it, tell the history of a place. It’s like archaeological evidence.
I like to imply that sense of the past, and to use the materials of architecture in my little buildings: concrete, steel, copper, wood, glass, tar and paint. Their surfaces are layered, peeling, grimy and covered in graffiti. But they’re not miniatures. I’m not trying to create the illusion of real buildings, or conceal their true nature as sculptures. Nor are they intended to be apocalyptic, or slums. I hope they come across as less literal than that.
As this idea develops, the interior spaces are beginning to take on a life, too. I like the idea of sculptures that are compelling on the outside but reveal another whole dimension if you come closer and peer in through the windows and crumbling façades.
I like to imply that sense of the past, and to use the materials of architecture in my little buildings: concrete, steel, copper, wood, glass, tar and paint. Their surfaces are layered, peeling, grimy and covered in graffiti. But they’re not miniatures. I’m not trying to create the illusion of real buildings, or conceal their true nature as sculptures. Nor are they intended to be apocalyptic, or slums. I hope they come across as less literal than that.
As this idea develops, the interior spaces are beginning to take on a life, too. I like the idea of sculptures that are compelling on the outside but reveal another whole dimension if you come closer and peer in through the windows and crumbling façades.