My practice is grounded in sculpture as a way of thinking — through making, material, and repetition. The act of forming is not simply a means to an end, but a process through which ideas emerge, shift, and are tested over time. Sculpture offers a physical language for addressing questions of space, balance, and presence that cannot be resolved through drawing or writing alone.
Forms develop slowly and often return. Rather than progressing in a linear way, the work moves through cycles of repetition and variation. Certain shapes reappear across years and materials, carrying traces of earlier decisions, hesitations, and abandoned paths. Earlier works are not superseded but remain active within the practice, informing later developments. In this sense, the work accumulates rather than replaces itself.
Much of my interest lies in volume and internal space — in the relationship between inside and outside, mass and void. This concern emerged through hands-on processes that allowed forms to be shaped intuitively. Early works were modelled directly in plaster, where the immediacy of touch and resistance of material encouraged attention to balance, negative space, and internal structure rather than surface finish.
Over time, this interest expanded to include digital processes and industrial fabrication. The shift from hand-made originals to digitally scanned and enlarged forms marked a transition not only in scale, but in how the work could be understood. Precision and repetition entered the process, while the form became increasingly distanced from the hand. This tension between the intuitive and the engineered remains central to the work, reflecting a broader movement from modernist sculptural concerns toward a more contemporary understanding of form and production.
Landscape has been a constant influence, though rarely as literal subject matter. Working in West Penwith has shaped an awareness of space, exposure, and scale. The relationship between solid mass and open void found in granite outcrops, coastal paths, and weathered structures has informed how forms are conceived and placed. Rather than depicting landscape, the work responds to it spatially — through occupation of ground, framing of views, and the creation of contained or opened space.
This sensitivity becomes particularly evident in site-specific and public works. In these contexts, sculpture enters into dialogue with its surroundings, no longer existing as a contained object but as part of a larger environment. Placement, orientation, and scale become as important as form itself. The work is shaped by how it is encountered — approached at a distance, passed repeatedly, or experienced in relation to vegetation, architecture, or horizon.
Alongside public commissions, studio work remains fundamental. The studio provides a space where forms can evolve without predetermined outcome. Ideas are tested, discarded, and returned to later. Failure and unresolved experiments are not treated as mistakes, but as necessary components of the practice, informing future decisions and preventing the work from becoming fixed too quickly.
There is an ongoing tension between private making and public presence. Public works introduce constraints of scale, permanence, and responsibility, while studio pieces allow for hesitation and revision. Moving between these conditions keeps the practice open-ended. The same form may exist quietly as a small studio piece before re-emerging years later as a large-scale public work, altered by context but recognisably related.
Material plays a central role in this process. Bronze, stainless steel, fibreglass, and other materials are chosen for their structural and spatial qualities rather than for effect. Each carries its own logic, weight, and relationship to time. The movement between materials reflects an interest in how form adapts and persists under different conditions.
Time remains an active element within the work. Looking back is not approached with nostalgia, but as a means of recognising continuity and change. Earlier works are revisited not to be corrected, but to be re-understood. With time, certain forms reveal themselves as more durable than others, capable of sustaining repeated attention and reinterpretation.
This website functions as an evolving archive rather than a finished statement. It brings together works made over several decades — studio pieces, public commissions, and ongoing projects — allowing connections to emerge gradually through repetition and return.