"El Cardinal, or Many Hands Light Work",   takes it's inspiration from a series of works in the National Gallery, the foremost of which being Philippe de Champaigne's portrait of Cardinal de Richelieu in his Cardinal's robes. This piece is part of a larger study that aims to question the role that Drapery has played in art from classical sculptures to contemporary painting and drawing. A medium of concealment, disguise and adornment, drapery functions on many levels, and can act as a vehicle for all kinds of high emotion. Drapery is present and plays a crucial role in nearly all commonly depicted biblical and religious scenes, from the Pieta to The Descent from the Cross, but is always sidelined, passed over as mere decoration. This series aims to bring the versatility, sinuousness and often sinister qualities of drapery into the foreground of the works. In this piece, the Cardinals' robes are displayed alone, minus the cardinal that would ordinarily prop them up, which they would ordinarily adorn. In this reworking they take on a life of their own, disembodied hands lurk in the heavy, fur-lined folds of the cloth, taken from paintings that deal with more sinister themes; The execution of Lady Jane Grey, Lot and his Daughters leaving Sodom, and Susanna and the Elders, all of which feature the abuse of women as their core themes.

"El Cardinal, or Many Hands Light Work",

takes it's inspiration from a series of works in the National Gallery, the foremost of which being Philippe de Champaigne's portrait of Cardinal de Richelieu in his Cardinal's robes. This piece is part of a larger study that aims to question the role that Drapery has played in art from classical sculptures to contemporary painting and drawing. A medium of concealment, disguise and adornment, drapery functions on many levels, and can act as a vehicle for all kinds of high emotion. Drapery is present and plays a crucial role in nearly all commonly depicted biblical and religious scenes, from the Pieta to The Descent from the Cross, but is always sidelined, passed over as mere decoration. This series aims to bring the versatility, sinuousness and often sinister qualities of drapery into the foreground of the works. In this piece, the Cardinals' robes are displayed alone, minus the cardinal that would ordinarily prop them up, which they would ordinarily adorn. In this reworking they take on a life of their own, disembodied hands lurk in the heavy, fur-lined folds of the cloth, taken from paintings that deal with more sinister themes; The execution of Lady Jane Grey, Lot and his Daughters leaving Sodom, and Susanna and the Elders, all of which feature the abuse of women as their core themes.

‘Apollo and the Snake’ takes its inspiration from three iconic pieces of sculpture linked through time; Michelangelo's Dying and Bound slaves, and Laocoon and Sons, the sculpture infamously excavated before the eyes of the young Michelangelo in Rome at the height of the Renaissance. Three sculptures that deal with the agony of being bound, of dying, and of freedom. Forms shift and flow one into another, losing the personality, the humanity of the bodies, to be replaced by the iconography of the Snake. Metamorphosis as a series, as well deals with both the physical act of Metamorphosis that takes place in all art-making, as well as the ever shifting iconograhpies of human culture. The presence of a snake has connoted an act of evil for two thousand years thanks to the intervention of Christian traditions, yet snake goddess cults that pre-date christianity have been found across the world from the Minoan civilization to the Persian Middle east and Ancient Egypt, leading archaeologists to surmise that snakes have been central to many belief systems, both in the act of guarding sacred spaces, and in their practice of shedding their skins, symbolizing an act of rebirth.

‘Apollo and the Snake’ takes its inspiration from three iconic pieces of sculpture linked through time; Michelangelo's Dying and Bound slaves, and Laocoon and Sons, the sculpture infamously excavated before the eyes of the young Michelangelo in Rome at the height of the Renaissance. Three sculptures that deal with the agony of being bound, of dying, and of freedom. Forms shift and flow one into another, losing the personality, the humanity of the bodies, to be replaced by the iconography of the Snake. Metamorphosis as a series, as well deals with both the physical act of Metamorphosis that takes place in all art-making, as well as the ever shifting iconograhpies of human culture. The presence of a snake has connoted an act of evil for two thousand years thanks to the intervention of Christian traditions, yet snake goddess cults that pre-date christianity have been found across the world from the Minoan civilization to the Persian Middle east and Ancient Egypt, leading archaeologists to surmise that snakes have been central to many belief systems, both in the act of guarding sacred spaces, and in their practice of shedding their skins, symbolizing an act of rebirth.

“Delilah” is a Drapery study taken from Rubens' Samson and Delilah at the National Gallery. The painting depicts a theme common to the history of art, that of the betrayal of Samson and the prostitution of Delilah. This painting sits uncomfortably with me as a female artists for many reasons; the misogynistic themes it perpetuates, the cycle of victim-blaming and the ongoing fetishization of the female body by male artists. The painting, although depicting the biblical Delilah as an apparently powerful temptress, also depicts her as passive, unmoving and on display as the scene unfolds around her. She is exposed; breasts bulging from the tightly bound sheath of muslin she wears as a dress. I lecture regularly on Feminist History of Art and deal on a weekly basis with this painting. This image was the start of my Drapery series and was originally a reaction to my emotional discomfort in observing the painting. By isolating the drapery that bound her I sought to free the image of Delilah, her body and her reputation from the bonds that shackled her.

“Delilah” is a Drapery study taken from Rubens' Samson and Delilah at the National Gallery. The painting depicts a theme common to the history of art, that of the betrayal of Samson and the prostitution of Delilah. This painting sits uncomfortably with me as a female artists for many reasons; the misogynistic themes it perpetuates, the cycle of victim-blaming and the ongoing fetishization of the female body by male artists. The painting, although depicting the biblical Delilah as an apparently powerful temptress, also depicts her as passive, unmoving and on display as the scene unfolds around her. She is exposed; breasts bulging from the tightly bound sheath of muslin she wears as a dress. I lecture regularly on Feminist History of Art and deal on a weekly basis with this painting. This image was the start of my Drapery series and was originally a reaction to my emotional discomfort in observing the painting. By isolating the drapery that bound her I sought to free the image of Delilah, her body and her reputation from the bonds that shackled her.

“In the House of God”   Taking the tradition of Cardinal portraits as a starting point, this work slyly undermines the political and social power of these historical men – in power at a time when the iron fist of the church gripped Europe’s consciousness in its clutches. The Cardinals were at the head of the organization that ruled the minds and hearts of the western world, dictating the everyday human experience to all. For women this meant daily bodily shame, witch-hunts, a ban on freedom of speech and daily treatises on the sinfulness of woman. As well as being ubiquitously banned from the world of power, women were also banned from the world of art. This painting explores the seat of power that is the Cardinal’s chamber, as well as the conspicuous bodily absence of the Cardinal himself through the portrayal of his luscious robes and surroundings.

“In the House of God”

Taking the tradition of Cardinal portraits as a starting point, this work slyly undermines the political and social power of these historical men – in power at a time when the iron fist of the church gripped Europe’s consciousness in its clutches. The Cardinals were at the head of the organization that ruled the minds and hearts of the western world, dictating the everyday human experience to all. For women this meant daily bodily shame, witch-hunts, a ban on freedom of speech and daily treatises on the sinfulness of woman. As well as being ubiquitously banned from the world of power, women were also banned from the world of art. This painting explores the seat of power that is the Cardinal’s chamber, as well as the conspicuous bodily absence of the Cardinal himself through the portrayal of his luscious robes and surroundings.

“Garter Mantle Garter Collar”

“Garter Mantle Garter Collar”

“Lift my Skirt, Sir?”

“Lift my Skirt, Sir?”

“The Falling”

“The Falling”

“The Raising of Lazarus”   This work revolves around the act of Iconoclasm. An exploration of what it is to take an image and break it apart, reconstitute and recontextualize it. The words of Hans Bellmer;  “the body is like an anagram that is waiting to be rearranged,”  have always resonated with me, and this idea of manipulating existing images also applies to my manipulation of the human body. How far are we as artists able to push the human body before it ceases to symbolize the human? The Raising of Lazarus is the Biblical theme that defies belief, that challenged contemporary viewers to believe the unbelievable and to teach the illiterate members of church congregations not to question the teachings of the bible. This work aims to subvert and challenge the idea of the believable. Hands become a vehicle of expression that explode out of the frame towards the viewer, become distracted, lose their grip and explore the flesh that surrounds them.

“The Raising of Lazarus”

This work revolves around the act of Iconoclasm. An exploration of what it is to take an image and break it apart, reconstitute and recontextualize it. The words of Hans Bellmer; “the body is like an anagram that is waiting to be rearranged,” have always resonated with me, and this idea of manipulating existing images also applies to my manipulation of the human body. How far are we as artists able to push the human body before it ceases to symbolize the human? The Raising of Lazarus is the Biblical theme that defies belief, that challenged contemporary viewers to believe the unbelievable and to teach the illiterate members of church congregations not to question the teachings of the bible. This work aims to subvert and challenge the idea of the believable. Hands become a vehicle of expression that explode out of the frame towards the viewer, become distracted, lose their grip and explore the flesh that surrounds them.