The image floats unsupported in a void space, undifferentiated from any surface onto which it can be fixed. Viewed from a distance it has no discernible features, it is uniformly un-textured with an invisible boundary that exposes the ‘plane of immanence’. Moving towards it you struggle to find reference points to triangulate your position; this is unchartered territory.
The image is evanescent and incandescent.
Beyond your translucent reflection on its glossy surface, the photograph displays its image. An infinitely thin space holds the same volume of sight that you looked upon in that landscape/building/place. From front on, the image is as vast as its primary site, but from the side it disappears into the volume of a piece of paper.
Do you feel that ‘tug’ as you look at the photograph?
It is not necessarily a bad feeling and yet it doesn’t sit quite right. Perhaps, as you look/see/drift your mind wanders while your body remains still, held in place. There are forms here that could interrupt this yet here you are - looking and thinking, lost and located.
The land is an illusion, pulling away as you attempt to focus the eye. The image operates as a vapid attempt at framing the fourth dimension, but the space between the image and the land grows by the second. The closer you look, the further away time slips. Like walking through a fog, looking for solidity, but finding only thickness. Forms will never fully reveal themselves.
In order to see, you look away and close your eyes. Finally you can chart a trajectory. Distance has flattened out and time has irrecoverably paused.
There is no distance between actual and virtual locus points.
No difference between the single and the multiple.
No separation between the outside and what lies contained within.
* text co-written with Kate Beckingham, Emma Hamilton and Amanda Williams