My use of medium format photography to capture the landscapes is the origin of the square format of all of my works. Scale is something I play with, from working on a human scale of 6 feet down to 20cm, all with the same level of dedicated detail.
Not only do I enjoy using charcoal for its synergy with the subject matter but for the impenetrable velvet surfaces I am able to create. Working directly on to the paper with charcoal I have ground to a fine powder allows a full connection between myself and the work. I enjoy teasing this characteristically unruly medium into unexpected forms and conclusions.
The almost luxurious surface to the drawings gives the viewer an intense experience when standing before them. The dichotomy between the landscape and architecture, the immense forestscape and the promised shelter often perplex those viewing, bringing to mind early experiences of landscape. As with the purely architectural drawings, it is the simplicity of offered information which calls to mind memories and knowledge of experienced human space.
I am a founding member of the art group The Arborealists.
My work is an investigation into the complex relationship between architecture and landscape, using architectural forms to reference utopias and enriched futures. I try to create light and shadow on paper, with an indefinable magic touch. My monochromatic drawings use chiaroscuro to heighten elements of space, volume and structure, allowing landscape to become the architecture in a harmony of imbalance. They become entwined and play with the perception of reality and illusion by creating a relationship between encounter of the natural world and invention.
My drawings amplify each environment's simplicity and purity with an aim of clarification. These clean minimal spaces offer little information yet have an authority to describe a magnitude. The non-narrative architectural spaces make enquiries of the viewer’s memory, knowledge and experience of human space.
My fascination with architecture began with the roof lines of Frank Lloyd Wright’s usonian houses as a device to cut through the dense, velvet like, charcoal surface of the drawings and allow the eye somewhere to rest. Today I actively seek out crisp, clean minimal spaces to inform my works.
As the forest mutates and becomes the architecture, buildings appear and dissolve in front of the viewer. This can be seen with my ‘Jubliee’ series of drawings where I have taken the soaring wings of Richard Meier’s Jubilee church in Tor Tre Teste, Rome and reimagined them as reflecting back a utopian forest landscape.