Suburban Utopia, An Infertile Place (SU4IP)
Lyndon Watkinson
Lyndon Watkinson (1999) is an artist, designer, writer, and musician based in Sheffield, UK. Democratising art and art context through artworks, publications, graphic design, articles, and sound. Creative director and founder of the online arts organisation SU4IP. His work is characterised by a desire for precision, often depicting aesthetics that celebrate and criticise the absurdity of corporatized identity, calling into question the necessity of creating false exteriors when what is not seen is often just as important.
In late 2020, a blog post entitled Suburban Utopia, An Infertile Place formed part of the wider inquiry and development of his practice for his bachelor's degree in fine art. As his work matured, he applied this term as a formalisation of his creative endeavours, later abbreviating it to SU4IP, now used as a digital alias and publishing entity.
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Enhanced Truth & Chemical Erosion
Camilo Parra: Open Pit
(above) Open Pit (detail), Mixed-Media on Laser Prints on Paper, approx. 300 x 500 cm, 2023
The capacity to put things into the world is one of many excellent metrics for defining your individual worth, and is generally one of the first things to consider when investigating a legacy.
It is difficult to define areas of expertise that don’t in some way allow us to take an idea, concept, or thought, and allow it to materialise for others to perceive.
Even primarily transformative endeavours like scolding shards of potatoes or replenishing displays of goods allow for some kind of substantiation of abstract ideas into reality, under the designation of cooking or stocking.
Creativity is one of the few occupations where turning thoughts into actions is a mandatory part of the process.
Taking a photo, designing a poster, executing a performance; transporting a pile of pigmented oil from a tube to a primed, stretch fabric in a very specific way so that when others look at it, they somehow feel better.
Tell me about an artist you know who doesn’t act on any of their inspirations, experiences, or emotions. Practice is completely defined by what we choose to bring into the world, and is a non-negotiable reality for anyone who wants to communicate through their chosen creative medium.
While it is established that adding, building, or applying is fundamental, I would like to introduce you to an artist who values creativity as both a means to impose, as well as remove.
Camilo Parra is a Colombian-born, London-based artist and graduate of the Slade School of Fine Art's painting program. His practice is defined by the gathering, manipulation, and curation of materials into artworks, that are systematically eroded through various processes in order to develop a completely unique, weathered appearance.
In his latest project, Open Pit, he takes advantage of exclusive access to the James Webb space telescope to collect imagery to create vast collages of photos that have been chemically eroded and manipulated to create expansive abstractions that tower over the viewer.
The result is an organic, rugged, and intense finish that encourages the viewer to dart from one element to another, and trace what remains of the original photographs. Like stargazing, we scan the surface for recognisable forms, evidence of human intervention, and pockets of untreated imagery to ground ourselves within the composition.
(above) Open Pit, Mixed-Media on Laser Prints on Paper, approx. 300 x 500 cm, 2023
The importance of Camilo Parra’s Open Pit is derived from his dedication to bringing predominantly inaccessible intergalactic realms into the public eye, and allowing audences to interface with natural beauty beyond the scope of scientific endeavour.
The masterful defacement of each photograph is an essential aspect of this. If the photographs are the unequivocal truth behind what lies beyond our expansive solar system, then Parra’s intentional erosion of its likeness is a commentary on how the truth is made palatable by how it is relayed, even if at the expense of how much can be deciphered or made visible.
In an age where information is so easily accessible, Open Pit returns us to a time where truth is curated by the few who maintain access to tools that dismantle common secrets. The uncomfortable reality is that the endlessness of space is daunting, and frankly, too overwhelming for human comprehension.
Like the lottery, the odds of getting what we signed up for are so slim, that their minuteness is simply impossible to visualise. Open Pit provides us with an insight into unrestricted truth, mutated by highly skilled hands to create art that is as aesthetically pleasing as it is informative, utilising creativity to turn information overload into a beautiful surface for anyone to enjoy.
Bleeding into theology, Open Pit allows us to accept what is in front of us, and appreciate its beauty, despite the fact that everything is not made abundantly clear.
Through engaging with the artist, I have had the privilege of speaking to Camilo about his work and better understanding the thinking behind his practice. Please find below my exclusive transcript of my online interview with Parra.
What are you working on at the moment?
Currently, I'm focused on advancing the Open Pit project while also exploring other creative paths. I'm experimenting with new chemicals and techniques to remove ink layers from these sheets and prints. My goal is to create a new large-scale piece connected to my current studio space in London, similar to previous ones in this project. Additionally, I'm simultaneously developing another project focused on internal body references, exploring both traditional and experimental approaches between these two projects while maintaining a certain balance.
How does this specific project fit into your overall artistic practice, and how did it originate?
This project originated unexpectedly during my undergraduate thesis work, revolving around religious concepts. Initially upset by the fading of photocopies of Christian religious representations of biblical scenes, I later recognised the formal and conceptual potential in this image deterioration. Subsequently, I began exploring methods to remove ink using other images and decided to use the Hubble telescope imagery, driven by my fascination with astronomy. This project evolved into my central focus, shaping my artistic process with a consistent procedimental emphasis on altering existing ink surfaces, characterised by accidental organic shapes juxtaposed with geometric lines, through an exploration of large-dimension surfaces.
What motivated the shift from the Hubble to the James Webb telescope?
My artistic inclination towards maximalist imagery, contrasting with my limited resources, led to a fascination with employing high-tech images through low-tech means like printers or photocopiers. As the James Webb telescope emerged as the most powerful humanity had created, surpassing the capabilities of the Hubble, I felt compelled to incorporate its images into my work. This need coincided with my master's studies at Slade and my studio space at the time, where I developed the Open Pit piece, shaping it like my studio’s floor area. This way, I bridged the vastness of this deep space imagery with the more concrete and closer architectural space I had surrounding me.
What challenges did you encounter in developing this specific project in relation to the previous one with the Hubble telescope?
In making this specific project in London, I encountered challenges such as sourcing chemicals and adhering to safety regulations in the school, the studio, and the UK compared to Colombia. Working with these chemicals affected my health and forced me to expand my artistic repertoire to a paradoxically more traditional materiality for the projects I started developing. Now I am fully aware of the risks involved in working with these substances and have had to heighten precautions, definitely marking a turning point in my practice. Despite these obstacles, the central role of this specific project with this telescope imagery continues to shape my whole practice, and it's still a vital reference point for the other projects I am developing.
What's the end goal of this work and your practice in general?
The ultimate goal of my work and practice is to question and transform the images that have shaped my perception of the world. It's a way of reacting to these images, expressing both fascination and scepticism, and creating something that constantly unveils new discoveries. By highlighting the manipulability of images in today's post-truth era, I aim to challenge the truths propagated by various power structures. Ultimately, it's a search for meaning and understanding, driven by overarching curiosity and inquiry into the nature of reality and how we perceive it.
You can explore the full body of Camilo Parra's work at camiloparra.net, and follow him on instagram: @c.a.m.i.l.o.p.a.r.r.a
The Violent Gaze; Talking with Ghosts.
Ryo Kajitani: Boy’s Don’t CryActions reverberate. We become what we are subjected to. We mould our surroundings, whether we like it or not. Our intentions are irrelevant.
If coffee is the fuel of capitalism, adversity is the fuel of creativity. Artistic endeavours are not rewarded by society in a conventional manner. Praise for creativity is inconsistent at best. Pleasant surprises are a droplet amongst waves of indifference and rejection.
However, no art is produced for free. Despite the economical, physical, or emotional toil that is invested into creativity, most artists are content to subside on the great satisfaction of completion, legacy, or purpose [myself included]. This unfortunate reality is cruel and unfeeling, but it is a game that must be played.
(right) Midnight Endeavor,
Photo Collage,
2023
Machine learning and self-directed coding enrich the digital photo collages of Ryo Kajitani. A floral palette bursts, drips, and glazes organic surfaces. Crisp lines combat blurred edges, vying for the viewer's gaze. The longer we are given to interpret, the more questions begin to arise. Sombre undertones become dominant. Vulnerability and fear contradict the openness and accepting expression of the subject.
Boy’s Don’t Cry refers to Kajitani’s experiences of being assaulted. Expectations of durability and resolve are unshaken by long-standing cultural norms that masculinity, femininity, and abuse aren’t mutually exclusive. The duration and implications of having been subjected to random acts of violence aren’t yet fully understood and are often grossly underestimated.
(left) In the backstreets of society's shadows, Photo Collage, 2023
Kajitani channels pain through their artwork, refusing to censor detail or curate their experience. Determination and passion overshadow a necessity to misinform the viewer with the aim of palatability. These photo collages highlight the vulnerability and helplessness of human anatomy. The audience sees both echoes of the artist, and themselves.
Understanding our own vulnerability allows us to acknowledge the importance of upholding structures that provide protection for one another. We are reminded that not only are kindness and commonality the cornerstones of security, but also to focus entirely on things that are within our control. The trauma of abuse never goes away, but we continue to exercise full governance over how we interpret it, and what we choose to do in spite of it.
(right) Boy's Don't Cry, Photo Collage, 2021
I was incredibly fortunate to receive input from Kajitani in an exclusive online interview. I would like to close this article with some highlights of this interaction.
Can you tell me about a significant turning point in your practice?
The turning point in my current practice was the sudden experience of phantom pain in 2021. This was based on my experience of being assaulted more than a decade ago. Until then, violence had not been a source of fear for me, nor an event noteworthy enough to leave a lasting impression. Therefore, facing the phantom pain experience was deeply unsettling for me.
The experience of phantom pain served as a catalyst for me to reacknowledge the fears and complexes I held within. It was then that I realised I had also been one of those who had been ignoring the impact of violence on myself, unaware due to my own repression. At the same time, I rediscovered the version of myself that I had been suppressing. This has contributed to my development not only as an art model but also as a creator.
Does art help you address other areas of your life?
Indeed, art has been beneficial. Let me give two examples:
Firstly, while creating print art, I have also been learning Python. My initial goal was to enhance my image and video processing skills as an image editing professional and graphic designer. Now, I am studying machine learning to deepen my practical knowledge of image generation itself. Programming through an interactive shell using the interpreter method involves a lot of trial and error. Writing code is creative and improvisational, allowing me to fully utilise my aesthetic sensibility as a creator.
For me, art acts like a hub that elevates experiences from various aspects of life into creation. Now, life itself feels like a part of my creative activities.
Secondly, in my doctoral research from 2016 to 2019, as a creator, I proposed a practical/experimental model that applies metaphysical art philosophy (for instance, Heidegger's major artistic discourse, The Origin of the Work of Art, centred around an ontological/phenomenological framework) to physical exhibition spaces in artistic activities. My artistic practice as a creator enabled a phenomenological attitude [Edmund Husserl], and academic insights brought dynamic discipline akin to a spring to my thought space.
I feel that this transdisciplinary and inheritable application of practical and theoretical knowledge was possible precisely because of art practice.
What are you struggling with right now?
I'm currently struggling with the social implementation of my artwork. Especially in my current project, establishing connections with the queer community and organising exhibitions is an urgent issue, yet I have not been able to realise it. Moreover, my artistic activities do not generate any income.
At present, I am sacrificing my living to continue creating. In extreme terms, even if my life falls apart, I cannot stop making art. It's like a kind of addiction.
What are you working on at the moment?
My current project is a photo-collage series of my experience of being assaulted called Boy's Don't Cry, which started in 2021. The groundwork of the piece is memories brought back by flashbacks and thousands of documented photographs of the immediate aftermath of the assault. A trinity of photography, drawing, and art printing methods forms these works. I have utilised partial machine learning (based on the Python library) in some of the pieces.
In these works, I confronted violence as a creator, not a victim, and also positioned myself as one grain of social noise, not a protagonist.
As you know, the collage method is also a technical metaphor for manipulating nature and society. The latent diffusion model, utilised in some works, realises super-resolution by removing image noise and redundancy. I reflected on this metaphor, myself as noise, and the diffusion process by editing. I questioned the whereabouts of the body from beyond latent space.
Violence isn't just a tragedy; it's a homeland for me. After the injury, I lost facial expression, yet my belly became a reservoir of energy that accumulates as a social force through which the artist or viewer can project their fears, desires, and dreams.
When viewing this work, confront it with your violent gaze freely. My body accepts the gaze steeped in these diverse desires, fears, and sadness.
What is the role of an artist in society, and why is it important?
In my view, even when creation begins as a private endeavour, it eventually transcends individual concerns, developing into a form that carries shareable social significance and breadth. Often, this blossoms in exhibition spaces, where, through appreciation, it fosters personal and collective self-discovery and stimulates dialogue. Furthermore, when appropriately displayed and preserved, these creations can endure as potential existences across time. The importance of this lies in the fact that, beyond our era, the existence of these works acquires a certain historical significance, existing as sustained events within society.
For instance, the rapidly changing trends and movements in the era of shared values in technology-dominated societies that advanced nations face, often laden with information overload, are frequently criticised as ephemeral and superficial. Artistic endeavours do not simply abandon or break down these questions thoughtlessly. Artists actively engage with such dominant signs, continually facing the era and participating in the trends, thoughtfully contemplating and diagnosing. In doing so, their works are offered to the times. In this sense, these works represent events for us, mechanisms of historical inheritance, and are akin to gifts or talismans bestowed upon the limitless peaks.
What's the end goal of your work?
My final goal is to work hard to prepare my work for social implementation as a possibility that will cross over the ages. I believe my life as a creator is a preparation period given to me to bring as many works as possible to the world. My final goal in the self-support activities is to create an orphanage that can host continuous care across the ages after my passing—this attempt, too, is strongly tied to artistic practice.
My work and practice reflect that my vision as a creator and practitioner extends over a macroscopic phenomenological perspective that spans the future and times. These works are entrusted with the functions of "watching over and giving."
All artworks can be potential existences that span the ages, beyond the time and era in which they live as creators (as long as they are correctly preserved). In other words, works (as historical existences) have potential encounters with unknown various appreciators across generations and times.
Eventually, after the artist passes away, works will continue to watch over the times beyond their private time as creators, through public expansion and solidarity, and sustain such time and space.
In this sense, my artwork is equal to a space of prayer.
Where are you from, and how does that affect your work?
I'm from Japan. I have been involved in self-reliance support activities for orphans, ex-convicts, and other individuals issuing SOS for over a decade. This private endeavour originates from the societal divisions silently confronted by Japanese society, seemingly peaceful on the surface. This societal division is characterised by a stark division or segmentation between its visible and hidden facets. The latter remains invisible from the surface, and there seems to be no intersection on its face. At first glance, this might seem like an ideal structure. However, there are several social problems arising from this quiet social division.
One of the pressing issues is the unsettling reality that the hidden communities (underworld?) and their outskirts function as societal pockets where people, forgotten or erased from mainstream society, are cast aside. Not only do these realms serve as a final refuge or dumping ground, but these hidden communities seem almost eager, with open arms, to receive these isolated and vulnerable individuals.
Another issue is the extreme indifference or ignorance of the broader society towards this irrational and one-sided division. It's crucial to understand that this societal space, where forgotten individuals and people find solace, also functions as a repository for the responsibilities that mainstream society unjustly shifts and projects onto them. The responsibility that someone casually abandons in order to continue living comfortably doesn't just conveniently disappear. Instead, individuals singled out as vulnerable bear this responsibility for a lifetime. It is almost akin to being deprived of the right to live one's own life.
Despite this, the reality is spreading: some people continue to rise to power by conveniently blaming others and portraying them as villains to keep living in their clean, unblemished worlds. I have observed these realities and, acting as a mediator and creator, tried to bridge the gap between these two facets of society in my lifetime.
Many aspects are hard to articulate, and my first step was to try to engage in dialogue by sublimating my own experience of being subjected to violence into my work first.
My creation always depends on an existential relationship with inner social issues that touch the skin in such a way. Having undergone such a baptism in Japanese society, my strength as a creator lies in no longer shying away from being made the villain. My life has been a series of being scapegoated in place of others. I do not run away from any responsibilities imposed upon me. And it is beyond such struggles that my work exists.
05.12.2023
Website: ryokajitani.com
Joas Nebe: untitled, the Elephant in the Room, & Give My Regards To The Alps
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In order to make something new, at least one or more of the elements used to fashion it should be virgin in some capacity. When bringing something into the world, it must be pure, uncorrupted, and highly refined. Otherwise, it’s just refashioning.
No one can be blamed for harbouring this opinion, as art supplies manufacturers are dependent on this being held in at least some capacity. For better or for worse, society continues to push agendas that champion profitability above all else. Despite this, contemporary art continues to challenge the idea that new components are fundamental to creating art.
The art of Joas Nebe isn’t the first, and critically, nor is it the last the last. His collage work involving the manipulation of leaflets, letters, postcards, and flyers brings a playful approach to the otherwise ruthless realisation of just how much material we get to use in order to bring our ideas to the masses.
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Collideascope-style visuals accompany intermittent foley in Nebe’s video works. Jarring combinations of video and audio put the viewer in a trance, in full acknowledgement of the artwork titles, which are the third and most critical components.
Works such as BUY PORTUGUESE TILES, NOW! or STOP BUYING THRIFT CLOTHES! quickly establish a narrative. Permission is ceded to the artwork; the viewer is neither asked nor told; the scale, intensity, and literary instruction command surrender.
How often do we make decisions based completely on our own understanding? Rather than the hidden signals and subtext embroidered into the fabric of building exteriors that feed our subconcious mind, delicately influencing our outlook in plain sight.
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Reproducibility comes at a range of costs. Give My Regards To The Alps fixates on two: image accuracy, and environmental implications. Standardisation marks the beginning of the end for the natural order we once took for granted. Colour formats process, deliver, reprocess, redeliver. Gradual decay is a hairline crack separating each step.
So much more is now possible with the advent of technological advancement. Destruction and construction march onward hand-in-hand as the combined most economically viable form of progress. Our perception is skewed to embrace the latter and ignore the former. And why wouldn’t we? It's not our problem. A phrase undoubtedly etched into the nameplate of each carriage transporting us forth into the future.
The fence keeping nature out has now been constrained and constricted to instead keep nature in. New nature isn't environmentally viable, because its energy requirements thrive off the expense of resources as opposed to existing in harmony with them.
The domestic environment only continues to entice. Why would I go to the mountains when I can see them right here? I’ll zoom in on a few satellite images, send my regards in a kind and neat email, and seek new distractions in which I can indulge. Perhaps I’ll order a framed print, even if the sky looks a little off.
Here, Joas Nebe conveys reproductive errors and climate breakdown as synonymous. Connecting the flaying strands of an overwhelmingly scattered and fragmented array of economic factors with the aim of reaching credible conclusions is humanity's greatest challenge.
Website: joasnebe.art
Instagram: @joas.nebe
The domestic environment only continues to entice. Why would I go to the mountains when I can see them right here?
(above) untitled, Collage, 2022
In order to make something new, at least one or more of the elements used to fashion it should be virgin in some capacity. When bringing something into the world, it must be pure, uncorrupted, and highly refined. Otherwise, it’s just refashioning.
No one can be blamed for harbouring this opinion, as art supplies manufacturers are dependent on this being held in at least some capacity. For better or for worse, society continues to push agendas that champion profitability above all else. Despite this, contemporary art continues to challenge the idea that new components are fundamental to creating art.
The art of Joas Nebe isn’t the first, and critically, nor is it the last the last. His collage work involving the manipulation of leaflets, letters, postcards, and flyers brings a playful approach to the otherwise ruthless realisation of just how much material we get to use in order to bring our ideas to the masses.
(above)
the Elephant in the Room, Video Installation, 2023
Collideascope-style visuals accompany intermittent foley in Nebe’s video works. Jarring combinations of video and audio put the viewer in a trance, in full acknowledgement of the artwork titles, which are the third and most critical components.
Works such as BUY PORTUGUESE TILES, NOW! or STOP BUYING THRIFT CLOTHES! quickly establish a narrative. Permission is ceded to the artwork; the viewer is neither asked nor told; the scale, intensity, and literary instruction command surrender.
How often do we make decisions based completely on our own understanding? Rather than the hidden signals and subtext embroidered into the fabric of building exteriors that feed our subconcious mind, delicately influencing our outlook in plain sight.
(above) Give My Regards To The Alps, Video Installation, 2019
Reproducibility comes at a range of costs. Give My Regards To The Alps fixates on two: image accuracy, and environmental implications. Standardisation marks the beginning of the end for the natural order we once took for granted. Colour formats process, deliver, reprocess, redeliver. Gradual decay is a hairline crack separating each step.
So much more is now possible with the advent of technological advancement. Destruction and construction march onward hand-in-hand as the combined most economically viable form of progress. Our perception is skewed to embrace the latter and ignore the former. And why wouldn’t we? It's not our problem. A phrase undoubtedly etched into the nameplate of each carriage transporting us forth into the future.
The fence keeping nature out has now been constrained and constricted to instead keep nature in. New nature isn't environmentally viable, because its energy requirements thrive off the expense of resources as opposed to existing in harmony with them.
The domestic environment only continues to entice. Why would I go to the mountains when I can see them right here? I’ll zoom in on a few satellite images, send my regards in a kind and neat email, and seek new distractions in which I can indulge. Perhaps I’ll order a framed print, even if the sky looks a little off.
Here, Joas Nebe conveys reproductive errors and climate breakdown as synonymous. Connecting the flaying strands of an overwhelmingly scattered and fragmented array of economic factors with the aim of reaching credible conclusions is humanity's greatest challenge.
17.08.2023
Website: joasnebe.art
Instagram: @joas.nebe
We are what we eat. Consuming enough calories is no longer just a necessity.
The uncanny sculptures and installations of Milly Aburrow delve into our relationship with food. Subtract the digestible properties of typical items found at any fast food counter, restaurant, supermarket, or takeaway, and we are left with the baggage that surrounds anything other than home-made.
It’s no secret that any marketing preys on human psychological weaknesses in order to shift products. Just as individual identity can be deduced from what you buy, what or where you choose to eat raises socio-economic stigma that communicates certain values, philosophies, or priorities, even if you don’t visit regularly.
When Aburrow removes the intrinsic edible properties from food, we are left with recreations of the environments that hospitality cultivates in order to keep us coming back for more. Flashy branding, uniforms, furniture, cutlery, and utensils. Bright logos, friendly, always-smiling staff, eye-catching deals, and unbeatable prices. Elements from anywhere we have ever eaten exist somewhere within these compositions.
The signage depicted is derivative of the classic lozenge or swirl logo of years gone by. Evoking feelings of my perception of fast-food as a child, and irrational desire and desperation for any food that promised a small plastic toy, star-studded promotion, or at the very least the approval of the protagonist from any animated movie arriving at screens near me.
“Through a playful colour palette and a comical stylisation, she [Aburrow] characterises the parameters of commercialisation and our consumerist society that defines a part of everyone’s life.”
The title Fill Me In is satiating an appetite far beyond caloric. When we purchase any form of sustenance, from three-course meals to cartilage-derived candies, we are buying an experience, a characteristic, or an aspiration. We are what we eat, purely because our individual components are dictated by what we choose to consume and where we choose to consume it, whether we like it or not. Without loaded substance, we are monochrome, one-dimensional outlines, calling out for our next provision of colour.
Just as what goes up must come down, what goes in must come out. We will never be filled. We will always require more. More will never be enough. (Everything is borrowed.)
Next time, we will make a new decision, accumulating broad or narrow banks of experiences and perspectives. A cocktail of secret spice blends or liquid lunches, everything we eat leaves a legacy. Visible in waistlines, complexions, attitudes, bank balances, or colons; long after last orders were called, the advertising campaigns climaxed, or pose-able polymer characters are deposited deep beneath the ground. The fabrications of Milly Aburrow embody our licence of consent surrendered to family-run businesses, multinational corporations, and everything in between, delegating a free hand in labelling, categorising, or commodifying our deepest desires.
28.06.2023
Website: millyaburrow.com
Instagram: @portfolio.milly
Archives of Pain
Inspired by Archives of Pain, a song from the album The Holy Bible by the Manic Street Preachers, Jones produces a digital drawing focusing on images of killers with their families.
Transitioning his practice from physical mediums to digital alternatives, Jones produces high-quality drawings using Procreate. In his recent body of work, Jones systematically works through The Holy Bible by The Manic Street Preachers as a prompt to produce artwork, compounding his emotional response to the music in combination with his own interests and research to produce visualisations and metaphors inspired by each song.
The Sheffield-based artist was deeply inspired during his teenage years by The Manic Street Preachers, and he acknowledges the project as an excellent way to revisit fond memories and, to some extent, reevaluate the content of each recording.
The way society perceives criminals often depicts them in a way that dehumanises them as the individuals they are. While there is no willingness to condemn their reason for conviction, Archives of Pain allows the audience to perceive the offender in a way that removes this context and highlights that prior to breaking the law or causing harm to others, every criminal is an individual who is often cared for and highly regarded by those in their intimate circle.
"For me, I was interested in the juxtaposition of nice, normal family photos and the evil unknown lurking within."
Even with the title of the work included in the drawing, Archives of Pain does not necessarily imply that those in the image are criminals who have committed acts of evil, and instead urges them to consider what all the images have in common, and why the title is relevant. As a result, the Archives of Pain is a testament to our access to free will. What seemingly normal, friendly, and harmless individuals can be capable of, and that the gap between us and them as portrayed in media isn’t as vast as we are led to believe.
Archives of Pain, in combination with his wider body of work, was displayed in the EQUINOX Final Year Fine Art Exhibition at Sheffield Hallam University. As a recent graduate, Jones intends on continuing and developing his music-driven practice in combination with other creative endeavours.
Website: russelljonesblog.com
Instagram: @rustamatic