The first advent calendar I remember was a snowy landscape splashed in chunky glitter. Little numbered doors were hard to see and fiddly to open but I was delighted when a tiny candle or perky robin was revealed. It was all about finding the right number each day. The increase in open doors a very satisfying way to get to Christmas. Continue reading “Living Calendar”
Susie Freeman & Liz Lee: What Once Was Imagined
This summer I visited São Paulo to install a new work at Oscar Niemeyer’s OCA pavilion in Ibirapuera Park. The exhibition INVENTO is best described as a science museum designed by artists. Created by matching significant scientific advances from the past 150 years with artists whose work acts as a response to each invention, I used thousands of medicines in packets to make a giant Amazon mantilla which illustrates the development of pharmaceuticals from plants to pills.
The exhibition runs until October 4th after which we hope to mount What Once Was Imagined in a venue closer to home. Continue reading “What Once Was Imagined”
In 2011 a great opportunity had come my way; a retrospective for Pharmacopoeia with a linked solo exhibition in a lakeside Danish gallery. However, at the time I was in the hold of a depression and struggling to do the mundane let alone the creative. Continue reading “Safety Net”
Much of last year I worked with my Pharmacopoeia partner, GP Liz Lee, on a commission for Denmark. Medicinsk Museion is a combined research unit and public museum at Copenhagen University, which in recent years reinvented itself by developing insightful, contemporary exhibitions alongside their historical collection of medical equipment and artefacts. Continue reading “Foam To Femme”
The exhibition Compass finishes soon so Art@42 are having a Closing Party on Thursday 16th May. Please RSVP to the gallery.
Ten years ago I received a strange email marked ‘cacklegoose’. Curious both because the author was nameless but more so due to she? he? offering ‘artistic material’ in the form of 328 razor blades. Further corresponding revealed it was from the writer and publisher Michael Raeburn of Cacklegoose Press. When his father, Walter Raeburn, died in 1972 Michael discovered a box of all the razor blades he’d used since the late 1920s along with the well worn razor in its purple velvet-lined case. Continue reading “A Good Shave”