In 1951 John Cage stepped into Harvard’s anechoic chamber expecting to experience silence. What he heard instead was the sound of his body, the high pitched hum of his nervous system and the low bass of his blood circulation. I will never tire of telling this story.
This exhibition will navigate loss, death, and grief through photographic practice; using damaged and broken equipment as the language of mourning. Through destruction as a narrative, the exhibition will draw out and identify the seemingly endless melancholia of arrested grief, corrupted sense of self, disengaged memory sequences, and unfocussed wandering.
RESEARCH & STUDIO DIARY
Here you will find essays, texts, experiments, and information about my research and studio development.