Diagrammatic objects, imagined languages and 3D models.

Based in Cell Studios in London, Amba Sayal-Bennett shares her studio with five other Royal College of Art graduates, a dynamic she favours over a self-contained space. Rooting her material inquiries into academic theories, she advocates for a community-based environment which fosters discursive dialogues. Contrary to the hyper-neat aesthetic she deploys in her sculptural works, her workroom is in her own words “naturally unorganized”, although there is logic to the mess, albeit one that only Amba can see. The desk is cluttered with scraps of pastel coloured matter, and is encircled by cardboard boxes that beg to be peaked into. Inside are metal pieces bundled up in bubble wrap, yet to be assembled into geometric networks. The artist draws these complex forms on 3D modelling software, sending files to be fabricated through mechanical processes. Constructing with precision, she arranges two of each element in case one gets scratched, slotted together with magnets for a slick finish. Every detail is taken into account, even as specific as an extra 0.5mm of a coating of paint. Nestled in a steel unit underneath tall windows are cans of spray paint, piles of paper and rolls of chicken wire while partial sculptures are dotted around which resemble teeth, vertebras and watchtowers. Diagrammatic objects are mounted on the wall, whose mint-green accents match a kettle tucked away in the corner, reflecting the artist’s preference for a muted color palette. Surrounded by deconstructed components of a cyber-scape, Sayal-Bennet merges a bricolage of languages, which react to the limitations of technology to form architectural artefacts.