My impression of an ever-increasing alienation of people in our society—alienated from one another, from nature, even from the urban physical world created by us—occupies a central place in my practice. Who are we, exactly, in the context of the world we have made and now inhabit?
For the past few years I have produced complex, carefully planned and intensively worked paintings on Plexiglas in which humans, animals and imaginary creatures interact and relate in shared, sometimes contested environments. Over time, however, I have found myself drawn along new paths and toward new subjects, reconsidering the surfaces and forms of the industrial urban environment and the abject items found there, dismissed by most people as detritus or garbage.
For this reason, I am drawn to building materials, industrial materials, such as rusted metal, brick, or concrete, which act in a sort of an archival fashion, a record of accumulated marks left behind over time. Beyond merely the recognition of beauty in ugly things, I perceive urban industrial surfaces as meaningful fields of deep textural and even abstract appeal.
I draw from such phenomena to create fields or environments of my own, sometimes painted, sometimes in photographs or prints worked over with drawn or painted markings—always simultaneously textural, messy and abstract. Urban animals and plants, responding absurdly to these built environments, adopt human-like traits, behaviours and strategies. The human presence is manifest in traces—not the people themselves, but the evidences of their passage: a happy face, an apple core, and so on—a world of non-places occupied by lost beings and objects.