DSCF2871.jpeg

Phill Hopkins

I spent my childhood in and with the landscape of Somerset, at the edge of south Bristol. My early sculptural work, whilst still in Bristol, dealt with its landscape and used its materials. As I journeyed, I left this landscape and went into the city, where my work took on political themes that dealt with the processing of both outer and inner battles and conflict. I fought many battles and was confronted with a toll to pay. The UK’s decision to leave the EU and Donald Trump’s election had left me completely stranded in an internal turbulent space; I was washed-up. At this time I made a large body of work, the ‘Post Truth’ series, in Pembrokeshire, both on the land and at the sea’s edge. I felt a seismic shift in myself and the work I made. I have again returned to the landscape. To be in nature is grounding.As I physically navigate the landscape I am drawn away from being too confined within my head. I am aware of the elements external to myself and my thoughts. The landscape acts as a mirror, reflecting patterns in myself, inviting and allowing me to make intimate physical and emotional connections. The landscape connects me to my own history, the person I was and my ancestry. The landscape allows me to shift my perspective and to feel present in my own body.

Every day I make photographs; my small camera is never far from my reach. A predominant horizon or central line defines the balance in my photographs, it’s a way of organising the world before me. These compositions calm and centre me. Some of my photographs stand as works in themselves and others act like sketches, a way of gleaning information. From these photographs I make other work.I’m fundamentally a mark-maker and translate my seen and felt world into a series of tics, twitches, dots, nods and shakes. This I see as coding, language, dialogue in and with itself. These marks have an erratic energy, they hum in response and in unison to one another, working within the safe confines of the planes perimeter. The recent global pandemic and its lockdowns gifted me with time and space to reflect on my position, stance and how I want to live and think. My studio has been a safe place and companion during this time. A kind of refuge or place of retreat, a thin or liminal space. 

Previous
Previous

Rosanne Guille

Next
Next

Karin Karinson