Ceramic panels inspired by journeys through Manchester, childhood memories, of urban scale and the rhythm of the city.

 

These works are shaped by memories of running through Manchester city centre from age eleven — the reflected morning light, the blur of traffic, the city unfolding in fragments. Towers of glass and stone flashed past as my friends and I ran through the streets and sought out shortcuts. We glimpsed the architecture in passing — angles, shadows, reflections, images that lingered long after the journeys themselves.

​

As children, the city felt enormous and impenetrable. Its buildings rose like fortresses, their interiors forbidden, their surfaces cold with light. We moved along the edges — through the side streets — always outside, always looking in. The scale of it both thrilled and excluded us, a world of city workers and security doors.

 

These panels echo that sense of strength and inaccessibility. Monolithic and self-contained, they stand like walls or thresholds — surfaces that reflect the outside world yet reveal nothing of what lies within. Their dense, layered surfaces conceal a safe interior, guarded from the movement and noise outside.

 

They give a feeling of the city, the fleeting rhythm of running through its heart, a child's memory memory of scale, speed and wonder.