2014
Photograph, pigment prints
Series, 1092 x 1456mm /
297 x 210mm
NOTHING can be described–
so NOTHING can also take place
Things and places become Sphinxes. Acquire silence. All things need to be loved this way, unconditionally. So many remain unloved, abandoned.
NOTHING can bring them back to us. Nothing – as a loving gaze on places and their things.
This coach house was once home for horses, carriages, food and people. A staircase leads to an empty upper floor. The back windows open to the rear of Bank of Ireland, a façade of solemn dignity. A courtyard is separated from the lane by a locked green sliding metal door, painted black on the lane side. A rusty I-beam across the side walls witness of a gone roof. Fragments of memory, promising potential coherence.