ill architecture

“A hot summer Saturday in Old Trafford. The smell of oil drum barbeques and the distant sound of reggae. I’m scurrying around a large blue tarpaulin, on which I have laid out various shapes and lengths of wood, that I am busy painting orange. Bed frames, fencing and shelving units, some of which await their second coat, were all dumped in this fly-tipping hotspot in Greater Manchester. A police patrol car rolls up. Trying to form a human italic, I fished for conformation from the nice policeman that, “I don’t think I’m doing anything illegal”

This work documents a year of independent public art making. I create impromptu sculptures out of fly0-tipped material, working where I find the waste, so I might engender conversations on space, place, art and rubbish.

76 pages and full colour, each work is presented by photographic documentation plus poetry describing the process and encounters