Sally

A mural-sized photograph of a snapshot of a small dog playing on a country driveway, and a series of cast paper bowls made from recycled art mail.

Found in a junk shop, the original photograph was simply inscribed 'Sally', providing the title for the work. Aside from being a (now uncommon) girl's name, and a nickname for Salvation Army workers, 'sally' suggests a confidence and buoyancy here rendered ambivalent by the melancholic, introspective qualities of the installation itself. While both photograph and bowls bear indexical witness to time passed and inferred absence, this sense of loss is made more apparent through the persistence and accumulation of the cultural archive.

'The enlargement of a snapshot does not simply render more precise what was, albeit indistinctly, visible 'anyway'; it reveals entirely new structural forms of subject matter'.

'[The grain of a photograph]...exorcises the unlikely confusion of matter into a single new substance, a sort of general equivalent of all the others ... it is itself a representative substance, a mirror of all the others'; it becomes a means of 'remaking [the world] only to render it more intelligible.'