I’ve always preferred to make 3 dimensional objects. I find it frustrating working with 2 dimensions or constantly working with the same medium (i.e. paint). I need to be able to work with an array of mediums that keep me interested.

I was always looking for a device to show work on when my work had more of a narrative content. So, it seemed obvious to place it on domestic furniture. Then the furniture became the work. History has dictated that if you place something on a plinth it became sculpture, and everything that was on a plinth was sculpture. It’s like an art world default setting. I was looking for something more domestic; without the baggage that it looked like it wanted to be in a museum or gallery.

You are not the first person to recognise this, but it honestly never occurred to me until it was mentioned. I guess there is always some innate things you do recognise in yourself, or don’t want to, but other people do. I really don’t think about where my work comes from, I leave that to other people to contextualise it.

I have always believed, whether it’s true or not, that my practice is more like a painter. It’s because I don’t really draw as a rule, or plan, I work straight in the medium, immediately and instinctively. It’s very much about ‘looking’ and making decisions quickly. I spend more time undoing things I have made than constructing them to get to the end result.

I guess they are just objects that I am drawn to. As an artist I want to use materials that you would not really find in an artists studio, materials that reflect the world outside the studio, perhaps in your home, so I use furniture or DIY products. I like domestic things that anyone could be surrounded by. I never want to be in the position of having to go into an art shop to buy materials. The 1960’s furniture is just something I am drawn to as a modernist marker; its history, aesthetic, and scale. Yes, I am quite picky as to what I use, but I never really know what I will use it for. This happens later, when I have sat with it in the studio for a while. So, I absolutely make a conscious decision with my materials, but the work is intuitive.

I am always looking for new materials and ways to include them within my practice. It keeps me interested. I am not cut out to use the same materials on a daily basis. Sometimes, the choice of material can be successful, sometimes it is not, but I absolutely need to include new materials. Things change on a slow basis, gradually over a year or so, but change is constant. I hope people can see the way that the work has developed and not remained static. The plastic bridles (cable ties) you mentioned are definitely chosen for utility, but then comes research to find what I consider a combination of functionality and aesthetics. I have constantly used cable ties and clamps to achieve something or aid construction, as the results are more immediate.

Abstraction is very important to me, but the use of certain materials always has its associations, some works are obviously derived from furniture, some obviously not.

Absolutely, I want to make the functional non functional. I don’t want them ever to be functional or practical. So, yes it would change the meaning. I am reassessing old domestic pieces and reconfiguring and reconstructing them towards abstraction.

Maybe this is just how I perceive things. I have always considered bronze, stone, metal, and those common denominators within sculpture a bit too masculine. My use of domestic material seems to be a softer approach to sculpture for me, and hopefully this becomes more relatable to the viewer.

In my opinion they are constantly developing. I would hate for my process to be standing still. The concrete sausages came about by experimenting. It’s what I normally do: find a simple everyday medium and try and push it to somewhere it’s not supposed to go. Concrete is usually used in a more formal way, with hard lines and edges, so I wanted to make something more tactile and perhaps a little more sensuous. There are always a lot of failures along the way, but that comes with the territory.

I really don’t define it, I just work. I leave it to other people to define what I am doing.

I am absolutely not a craftsman. Craftsmanship to me comes from making functional objects. I love using my hands, it’s something that is very satisfying and all the skills I have developed I have learnt through experimentation. For me, the enjoyment and what keeps me content is my hands on approach. On bigger projects I have had help where my skills are limited, but I always like to be involved in the making. When you see a Flavin, a Judd or a Tuazon you don’t think ‘craftsman’ just because it’s well made. I think it’s just that not many artists have skills anymore, or it’s too easy to get things fabricated and e-mail a design. I need to do it all myself.

Yes, I don’t like to make things too permanent or fixed. Quite often after a few months or a year I will repurpose a work, or take elements of it and put into another work. I am not precious, mind you I won’t go back and rework a finished work, but I will borrow elements from it.

Yes, I like them to be precarious or fragile. As you said, it provides a tension and a signal that implies a lack of permanence that it may collapse at any time. I also use this device in the way I combine materials, like with the glass and concrete constructions I have made recently. Combining something heavy with something extremely fragile.

Not at all. I think I confuse myself as I am always trying to achieve a ‘less is more’ approach. So, what appears to you to be elaborate is to me a reduction of the work over a period of time.

I am not conscious of any influences at all.  I tend not to over think things and rely on some intuition. Of course other people always see certain influences, but I like to think its coincidence. I am always trying to present a unique visual language, but what I see in the work will always be interpreted differently by another viewer.

I am about to start work on a huge work, probably 8 meters long or longer. It is for an exhibition called “Ngorongoro” which opens at Lehderstrasse 34 in Berlin over Berlin Gallery weekend. As the work will be so large, I will make it in components, as it won’t fit in my studio. I will only see it all together when it gets to the exhibition and I reconstruct it. I like to work this way, to finish things at the last moment. I don’t want to know what the end result is before I start. There’s no point. I like some fluidity.