Lost Wax Candlestick is a self-referential piece of sculptural craft - an object made from the very thing it is made for.
I burnt down a package of candles, one on top of the other, to create a knobbly mound of melted wax. I then cast this wax in bronze, through the lost wax casting process - whereby a wax model is melted in a ceramic mould, then displaced by molten metal. The wax lost from the spent candles is reclaimed, and transformed into a functional bronze memorial to itself.
Glazed stoneware. 2017.
Ceramic bowls, formed by crisps. Packet-loads of crisps are glued together into a mould, and stoneware clay is pressed into the coarse texture.
This technique harnesses the unique gesture of fried potato and baked corn, to create pieces of surreal dishware. The crisps shape the clay into contorted, crustacean-like forms, with characteristic crinkles embossed upon their exteriors.
Crisp Bowls can be used to serve snacks in a manner most avant-garde. They can also simply be appreciated as self-referential sculptural objects - products made from the very things they are made for.
Corrugated ceramic tableware, formed from single-use cardboard moulds. The moulds are filled with stoneware clay, and then burned away in the kiln - creating dense, overlapping textures on the ceramics inside. The vessels bear the crumpled gesture of the cardboard, as if they are made of petrified paper.
This is: The Lost Cardboard Process. A reaction to our wasteful culture of disposable cardboard products. Thousands of coffee cup sleeves are used every day - only ever for about two minutes - before being thrown away. They are rarely recycled. Cardboard Ceramics turns these generic pieces of neglected cardboard into distinctive pieces of ceramic tableware. They are tactile, handmade, and rich with individual character - the antithesis of the mundane, expendable paper from which they are made.
Cardboard Ceramics coffee cups are now stocked by SCP
Latex, upholstery foam, pine.
An emotive, unsettling stool. The pink latex is like an organic tissue, viscerally stretched across the wooden skeleton and foam brain within. It is swallowed up by an orifice underneath - as if the whole object is eating itself in reverse.
These tables are inspired by a job I did, redoing a floor.
When I lifted up the floorboards, I saw a collection of forgotten objects; lost keys, dropped coins, rusty pipes. It was like a neglected storage space - a hidden drawer pulled open beneath my feet.
I made these old floorboards into new tables. The tops are planed and smooth, but below the trapdoors lies rough, unfinished compartments. Copper pipes segregate the space, like drawer dividers.
It evokes the childhood experience of exploring mysterious areas of a house - the uncharted worlds of basements and attics.
Toothpaste, polyurethane resin on MDF.
We rarely appreciate toothpaste for its aesthetics. We only ever look at it fleetingly, for the few seconds it takes to squeeze it onto a brush and put it in our mouths.
In “Waste Paste,” the toothpaste is liberated from its intended function. It just sits there, being wasted. We are therefore free to appreciate its ornamental qualities.
Three Shades of Whiter
A New Dimension of Freshness
A New Dimension of Freshness
In February 2012, the Unilever corporation commissioned me to make some brand-based art.
I composed globules of Unilever branded toothpaste into bold, graphic, advertisement-like images. These works reflect the personality, as well as the substance, of the brands from which they were made.
Confidence & Compliments
Table prototype in black OSB
All the requirements of a side table, condensed into a functional, unobtrusive object. It has small tabletop to rest a glass of water on, and a cavity to stash magazines/books in.
Inspired by the no-nonsense functionality of a public rubbish bin. A simple, unassuming receptacle - designed to have materials dumped inside it, in the most direct way possible.
It is also aesthetically reminiscent of a pelican, expressively looking up at you with its mouth gaping open.
Ceramic vessels cast from birch bark moulds.
Birch bark is waterproof. When a birch tree dies, the bark remains strong while the wood rots inside. This amorphous mulch is formed in the shape of its bark mould.
I applied this process to ceramics, by filling birch bark moulds with clay. After firing in the kiln, only hollow columns of stoneware remain. They bear the organic texture of the bark, as if the dead tree has been cast into a stone memorial.
to be further developed..
Lost Cardboard Process
High fired stoneware, formed from cardboard moulds
In response to a brief set by ceramics company 1882:
"Create a series of experimental ceramic objects, which are not tableware"
I made these vessels from single-use cardboard moulds. The moulds are filled with clay, and then burnt away in the kiln. Since the moulds are disposable, they create dense, overlapping textures, whilst leaving the ceramics inside intact. They bear the rough gesture of the cardboard, as if they themselves are made of petrified paper. This is: the Lost Cardboard Technique.
They looked like newly-hatched birds.
Teeth are the hardest parts of our bodies; the pieces of us that endure the longest. When we die, they are often the only means by which we can be identified; the only relics by which we can be remembered.
They are a simultaneous allegory for both resilience and transience. They are the tough tools by which we feed and sustain ourselves in life, and are also the tombstones by which our past existence is signified in death.
Each tooth is hand sculpted out of porcelain clay, and fired with different combinations of glazes in order to achieve various states of weathering and decay.
Like A Flower on the Field
The Wind Blows Over it, and it is Gone
And This Place Remembers It No More
And This Place Remembers it No More
A stool influenced by the fragmented aesthetics of Russian Constructivism.