‘Yoghurt cultivates and moves with life. Sour sometimes. She dips her giant brush into tubs of it, smoothes with automatic hand the thick whiteness over the powdery pigments that she’s already laid down, sprinkled from stained fingertips. It brings us proteins and binds our bodies together with first life, she says. In her images, everything is alive: an amorphous shape searches for its own form in ‘C’est la Vie’(2017), a mass that will surely expand to consume the stark florescence just above. A white apparition lifts its head above water in ‘Ghost’ (2017), searching for its own memory in the dark. These are patterns of loneliness reaching out to find anything that might feel familiar. Breathe.
She calls them ‘Shapes of Permanence’, but how can we be so sure? Life continues to move all around, changing us. Sometimes she takes clay and moulds it into tiny organic forms; crumbly earth that has been pressed, coiled and rolled, placed delicately on the ground as she tempts you to tread a path through the gallery. It crunches underfoot, pounded into a powdery carpet of dust. Action. The wind will pick it up and move it to another place, perhaps back to the land from where it came. There must be more than this. Yet still she says it is permanent. Here, some of her sculptures are stacked around us: pastel tones of orange, green, blue and pink hiding other elements that have been dipped and set. Little piles of nature made lovelier, but ready to be broken. Sky turns grey with you again. Hers is a threshold; whether you boldly break through or gently peek into the curved, clear windows among some of these hazy surfaces, well, that’s up to you.’
Extract from ‘Shapes of Permanence’ by Louisa Elderton, Lehmann + Silva, Portugal, 2018