Suspension was conceived as a personal response to a new era characterised by prolonged restriction and seemingly unending periods of simply waiting.

To be suspended is to be transfixed within a state of being, usually at the mercy of forces beyond one's control— a purgatorial, motionless world of sorts. While waiting, time can become weighted, so much so that the very concept eventually becomes archaic and useless. Basic freedoms surrounding movement become distant, fabled realities, rendering escape, even in its most basic sense becomes a luxury, so exotic and far removed it may as well not exist. While being suspended, one can be aware of the world around them; that such a thing exists, yet in a way that is separate, alien and unreachable.

Using the walkway of the Staples Corner flyover as the centre of the piece, Suspension highlights the idea of a constant, yet distant perpetuity by way of its elevated vantage points and views. Traffic moves both below and above the walkway, yet the camera is confined to the narrow, empty space in between both, with nothing to do except look on at the world. Although cars, buses and trains come and go, there’s this overall feeling of an almost hypnotic sameness, reiterated by the lack of change, yet surrounding motion, all gazed upon while being literally suspended in the air. Between the surrounding, imposing concrete structures and the lack of explicit human presence, loneliness and isolation seem at times inescapable, the recurring amber traffic light, a constant reminder of the restriction, pause and danger during a time so precarious.

Back.