A photograph could be said to be the first post-industrial object in that it is the information it contains, and not the thing itself, that has value. It appeals to a sense of the real, but whilst representing reality it fundamentally alters it; it is a footprint of the past.

My paintings rely heavily on the photograph; without them I would not know where to put the paint. They are not a form of photorealism, but a simulation of the photograph’s egalitarian language. I see my process as a form of translation from photograph to painting, resulting in a game of visual Chinese Whispers between the photograph, myself, the painting and the viewer. Engaging with the language of photography, attempting to mimic it, is a way to explore the language of paint, it’s materiality, craft, and process that are central to my practice. By setting myself limitations of palette, scale and the task of copying, the endless possibilities that arise when you pick up a brush seem somehow more manageable.

Recently I have been working on a series of paintings based on snapshots of supposed UFO sightings. Although I don’t set out to make a series of work, one painting rolls into another as new possibilities suggest themselves with each new canvas. They concern a fascination with something ‘other’, uncertainty and the encounter. Rooted in Cold War paranoia, the obsessive nature of these UFO enthusiasts appealed to me. It seems almost quaint to think the planet once feared alien invasion, especially now, in an age when the biggest threat is perhaps from within. The paintings are a slightly tongue-in-cheek look at the ‘reality’ of the photograph and the illusion of painting.