Marine One
Installation
Untitled (Conner)
Salut d’amour after Elgar
Tactile Mundanity
Watch/Wathced/Watching
Incomunicabilità
Straniera
2D work
Mini collage series
BBC good food
Gravure Idol series III
Gravure Idol series II
Gravure Idol series I
Vogue collage series
Scar series
Insect series
First Month II
First Month I
Thérèse Dreaming after Balthus
Sleeping babies
Crying babies
Innocence
Teddy Bear
Digital work
AreYouAlright
Pose
Vengeance
in 3D series
Adult's smile
Melting girls
Other
Growing baby series
Workshop
Soften!
Mundane Macabre
Untitled (Jake), 2025, installation
Paper, fabric, toy stuffing, balloon, and cardboard
390 x 220 x 120cm
Paper, fabric, toy stuffing, balloon, and cardboard
390 x 220 x 120cm
At a window exhibition in The Bomb Factory in Holborn, alongside with Ellie Niblock‘s new work Re-routing.
This installation represents an imaginary afterparty scene that I’ve never actually experienced, but often envisioned. It captures the fleeting traces of euphoria and chaos that linger after the celebration ends. Colourful balloons and scattered confetti mark the residue of joy, while a ghost of hyper-emotion haunts the space.
Yet beneath the surface of festivity lies a subtle undercurrent of violence. A broken lamp, a hole in the wall, and torn curtains quietly suggest that something darker may have unfolded.
Jake, the white mannequin, is one of the only three-dimensional objects in the scene. His body is repositioned every Sunday night, introducing movement into an otherwise frozen environment. Each shift marks the passage of time and alters how the scene is read, reminding viewers that memory, like celebration, is unstable and always subject to change.
This installation represents an imaginary afterparty scene that I’ve never actually experienced, but often envisioned. It captures the fleeting traces of euphoria and chaos that linger after the celebration ends. Colourful balloons and scattered confetti mark the residue of joy, while a ghost of hyper-emotion haunts the space.
Yet beneath the surface of festivity lies a subtle undercurrent of violence. A broken lamp, a hole in the wall, and torn curtains quietly suggest that something darker may have unfolded.
Jake, the white mannequin, is one of the only three-dimensional objects in the scene. His body is repositioned every Sunday night, introducing movement into an otherwise frozen environment. Each shift marks the passage of time and alters how the scene is read, reminding viewers that memory, like celebration, is unstable and always subject to change.
