I wanted to run round the floor piecing back together the parts of the jigsaw. Fit together the various concrete slab shapes. Correlate the latex sheets to the resting steel. And slot together the rounded clay in various positions. Is that me being the big kid that I am or the playful evocative nature of the geometric shapes? Across the Thoresby Street floor each piece informs the other through the mathematic theorems devised for their creation. The rounded clay shifts into the glistening rooster in the right hand corner. The laying latex replicas the resting steel plates and the leaning concrete slabs. Within each piece there is a temptation to touch, and a temptation to test the precarious notion of each. I think if every street was paved in this configuration you would not take your eyes off the ground. Each has a delicacy and tenderness, something that you do not expect from dense robust materials. But with the play of scale the audience looks down upon the creations with a sympathy in mind as they look back in a cowering, vulnerable feeling.
The smaller shapes wrapped around the coloured cones scurry across the floor in a strong friendship. The cone has character with it’s colour but the hugging shape gives it a bolder personality, a confidence. But these shapes have a dependancy on the cones, a dependancy that offers comfort and security in their pair. Not just within their pair, but a safety in numbers.