Black-and-white slideOpen pages of an empty spiral-bound notebook. In the bottom half of the image, a person peeks out. We only see their forehead, diagonally, one eye glancing at the camera, lots of tousled hair,...

For weeks, I spent evenings stitching scraps of fabric, sometimes well into the early hours of the morning. I had accumulated these materials – once useful things, tablecloths and bedsheets – years before, dyeing them...

In 1999 I moved to Tehran having grown up abroad, an overeager returnee, in that mid-twenties kind of way, both too confident and too impressionable. By sheer luck and circumstance, I soon found myself under the...

In the past two years, my studio has partly migrated inside a mountain. To be more precise – inside a hydroelectric plant built inside a mountain, a fascist architectural project conceived during Italy’s autarkic...

If I had to locate myself during chemotherapy, I’d return to a clip on my phone shared by a friend. It shows me on a beach in Goa at her wedding, filmed at dusk, blurred by movement and low resolution, coloured powder...

In the name of God what is the matter with this child? For ten minutes the eldest of Hannah’s three sons, eight years old back at the start of summer, has been sitting and staring at clouds. It is the autumn of 1977, a...

The making of ceramics can possess a perverse alchemy. One must attend, with great care, to chemical balance, and to moisture, and to temperature, and after all this one still does not know for certain what will emerge....

In 2024, Véronique Bacchetta, then director of the Centre d’Édition Contemporaine in Geneva, invited me to contribute to a series of small publications focusing on particular, perhaps divergent, curatorial practices. I...

My earliest memories involve a patent black handbag filled with scraps of paper, and lidless, dried-out felt tip pens. The bits of paper were stapled together to form booklets. Before I knew how to write, or read, I...

I am early to visit the sculptor Phillip Lai at his studio in Essex, just outside of London. It’s hidden somewhere behind the Royal Opera House’s production workshop, so I steal a partial view. Huge illusion-making is...