madre in cucina, 2024, red carpet, cutlery, cermaics, alluminum foil, diet coke cans, cookies, vintage cookie jar, alluminum ladles, alluminum sculptures, plastic waste, ‘Finding Place’ Group exhibition Crawley UK
The artwork portrays a haunting scene of a mother’s silent suffering as her body overflows a kitchen, symbolising years of self-sacrifice and a painful, unreciprocated nurturing. It explores themes of generational exhaustion and unfulfilled desires, where the act of consumption becomes a metaphor for both physical and emotional scars that come not from nourishment, but from a toxic cycle of giving and receiving without true sustenance.
She lies there and doesn't move. Her broken, sick body floods the kitchen. You walk between her wounds and count the stitches. Everything is prepared. Food, drinks, knives, forks and spoons. She lies there and doesn’t move. The mother, sick of giving and the daughter, sick of receiving. It’s that cold meal that you have to take home and you’re not going to eat. A rotten bag of a to-go lunch. The scarring comes from consuming. Consuming ourselves, not from what we want, what we need, what we’re offered.
Popped not Fryed, 2023, Degree Show Royal College of Art, London
Open digestion en-course. A circle of fridge-bodies, alchemically and structurally in metamorphosis with each other, transmitting, digesting, filtering, and regurgitating. The fridge gathering creates new meta spheres, lumps of imagined calories- energy balls?
The installation holds more bodies in space, hinging at volumes while feeding freshly coagulated fluids. Excess has turned the fridges into free agents of absorption. They have become self-sustainable domestic cyborg bodies, disrupting broken ecologies of nutrition. Embodying the horror of a broken nutrition. The new transmissions erupt in a collection of juice. Maybe sweat, maybe tears, perhaps the sick mother’s milk. The audience is invited to taste the juice, in an attempt of trust, almost affection, towards the abject body fridges.
Fridge Juice aka FRIGGIUS recepe: Water, foamed coconut cream, rosemary extract, brown sugar (GF + Vegan)
Rosemary, 2022, London
I lay points of a dining constellation, recreating an already consumed meal, a gathering of plates within the meta tray. A meal within the meal within a ritualistic reconfigured domestic surreal circle! Layers of interconnected narratives spiral subliminally out of this plate into the spatial plate-circle mega tray: recreating the space for me to physically engage the violent everyday search for ideal wellness, supposed fast health.
Enforcing healing as if it could be consumed, outlining the issues that build in and out of relationships to the body, food, and the trauma that is cast between the two.
I hide the performance in plain sight just like all food disorders operate in one's life. The binge is layered in a liminal space of contradictions between the familiar gathering rituals and the lonely habits, between conscious and unconscious, between the learned, the inherited and the secretive.
The audience accesses the performance solely through phones positioned around the installation, denied entry into the inner dialogue that unfolds. Here, the screens are transformed into portals of intimacy, stripping away superficial appearances. Through this raw and personal medium—the phone—each spectator is isolated, confined to observe alone. It is a space overrun with the artifacts of self-display, cycles of posting and pretense, where the screen format itself is subverted. The act of consuming rosemary’s roots becomes a meditation on our fragmented relationship to healing and vulnerability. In this space, attempts at wellness feel distorted, twisted—something wicked and turned the wrong way.
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The Holy tetta, 2022, London
An inside-out cauldron? An emerging island of alchemic apertures, fossils and crystalised flora? Maybe the breast of a giant, the breast of the fat lady. The holy tetta is a sculptural environment built to serve a new speculative ecology of exchange and healing through primordial care: feeding.
An assemblage of gestures that points towards community. The vegan raw cacao potion brewing within the landscape absorbs the unseen ingredients of the recipe, the corporal and spiritual. An exuberant agglomeration of smells, symbols and receptive energies flow through the alchemic apertures enriching the milky potion. As gravity is a push and magic is a pull- the abject breast ultimately feeds from its roots and not from the top, enabling a continuous open but visceral encounter with the audience, who is invited to become both the potion and the bewitched, enabling a divergent cycle of nutrition, revisioning roles, performativity and the occult.
Magic Jam, 2021, London
The fat lady is cut again, divided into jars of visceral jam. A bodily potion for the public to take home and share with the household. The fat lady, in this way, enters different planes of intimacy, from the domestic home to the flash home-body, on a journey of reconnection. The Fat lady painting is physically spread through spaces and depths, herself painting a hypothetical map. The goddess will only be whole again if brought together by those who have fed from her insides.
The fat lady bleeds into jars. Fruits of her cycles of vita-morte smashed into sweet pulp. A bodily potion for the public to take home and share with the household. She enters different planes of intimacy, from the domestic to the flash home-body, on a spiral dance of connectivity. I paint her as a dialogue, she asks me once again to be cut in multiples, to diverge into potentiality, physically spreading through space and time, herself painting a hypothetical visceral map.
The goddess will only be whole again if brought together by those who have fed from her fruity insides.
Watch the ritual of preparing jams here
Organi interni, 2021
One of the Fat Lady care organs has been cut and hanged. The display of her visceral wound echos of a broken portal. Metal braces hold the giant’s aperture. The connective trauma tissue calls for touch, and as moth to flame we orbit inside the vibrant muscle, wondering for a view from within.
A Fat Lady’s organ is cut and hung. The display of her viscera echoes of a broken portal. Metal braces hold the giant’s aperture; like moth to flame we orbit inside the connective trauma tissue, craving a view from within.