A series of small, dynamic, and colourful collages composed of photographic images from my past and the material evidence of my present. These collages, made up of found paper and family photographs are my response to being back “home” in the place I grew up. They represent both dislocation and remembrance, loss and love.
Plunged back into my family of origin and the London of my youth, my memories kept clashing with reality. Nothing was the same any more. And yet new opportunities existed: At my father’s house we found a stash of old photographs. Travelling on the trains and shopping for basic supplies, I came across free magazines and cardboard packaging. At the Tate Modern, Robert Rauschenberg’s collages and flattened boxes reminded me of the inherent potential in thrown-away materials.
So I opened up boxes to create surfaces on which to work. With scissors, a bit of glue and paint, I had all I needed. I worked instinctively, cutting out figures and silhouettes from the photographs, tearing colour from magazine pages, and playing with layout. With each new collage I used the remnants from the previous work.
In the collages, colour, shape and form are balanced in an organized chaos that is held in check by the edges of the boxes. The glue on the flimsy cardboard causes them to naturally twist and turn. And yet they maintain their identity. In the tension between what happened and what was remembered, between what is desired and what is, they show that life carries on, and is good.