Man Made/Carbon

Contribution to a group exhibition called Polarized.
Two works.

Man Made
3 bricks handmade from clay from the M74 roadworks in Glasgow
Each 8 x 12 x 23 cm

Pencil on paper, graphite, cement cubes, cement powder
110 x 75 cm

Studio Shots

Midterm assessment
December 2010


MDF-bedframe, compost, imprint of body
190 x 135 x 30 cm


Still image of field, 24-minute loop with birdsong (skylarks, cranes and crows), TV, TV-table, earth from backyard, chair

Return by petterpetterpetter

See video

Re: Building

Clay from the M74 roadworks in Glasgow, MDF-grid, chicken wire
ca 300 x 700 cm


Solo show in the Vic Gallery, Glasgow School of Art

Read my own reflections on the show here.

Installing be|long

Installment of solo show in The Vic Gallery, Glasgow School of Art.

Egg (version II)

Metal boxes, compost, glass, brick, stone, metal mesh
150 x 70 x 15 cm

Egg (version I)

Metal boxes, compost, stone, brick and computer cable
150 x 70 x 15 cm

Earth & Grid

Metal box, compost, metal grid
70 x 70 x 15 cm

Imaginary Stones

Pencil on paper
Each 42 x 29,7 cm

Studio shot

End of the year assessment.
May 2010

A Mineral Sleep

Three drawings. Pencil on paper.
Each 105 x 75 cm

Monument II

Compost soil.
110 x 110 x 88 cm

After seven days:

The Distance Between Everything

Gravel and glue.
25 x 25 x 25 cm

Exhibition view

The Distance Between Everything and Monument II the day after opening.

Monument II (making of)

School exhibition installment. 600 litres of compost being shaped.

Monument I

30 x 30 x 28 cm

The Distance Between Everything

Gravel and glue.
25 x 25 x 25 cm (to be)
March 2010

Studio shot

My studio space at the beginning of March 2010.


Three pinched and molded papers.
Each 84 x 59,4 cm
January 2010


Three photographs with accompanying text.
February 2010.

When we opened the door to the apartment it was absolutely silent and still. The only movement in there was the red blinking of several digital clocks. But since they all showed 00:00 this steady pulse only emphasized the feeling that time stood still here; that this was a jinxed moment. It was as though the human habitat had automatically withdrawn from the rest of the world once the human presence had left.

At closer inspection, this lair had shed its bonds with the outside long before its owner had been forced out of it. Even its worldly borders; its walls, had disappeared behind timeless barriers of books. It was a cave. Stalagmites in front of windows, debris of meals on the few patches of open floorspace. Here, the shadows playing on the walls had been an escape from an overwhelming and disappointing sensory world. In an ironic reverse of Plato this was a prison built of collected knowledge.

Not that knowledge had been the primary goal here. The compulsive urge to collect had long overshadowed any functional use the objects might have. And as the content of the books had become unattainable, so had the prospect of order and overview. It seemed that the collecting itself had lost its reason.

But if the past is the luxury to own, a collection of this kind might constitute a desperate attempt at retreating completely to times gone by. And now that it’s all been shattered, sold out or burned; have we lost the past as we’ve lost the artefacts? What role does a photograph play as a substitute?

Do I own this past now?