PLAYTEMPLE

sound sculptural installation, A.Farm.Saigon artist residency, Treehouse at Amanaki Hotel, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, Sep 1 - 30, 2024

reclaimed polystyrene, reclaimed rebar, found steel, found asphalt, found concrete, found wood, found plant matter (species unknown), pressed Irish wildflowers, found basalt, recycled guitar strings, found brick, toothpicks, Mt Vesuvius volcanic stone, sweet mints, used denim, Procrastinate t-shirt graphic with toothpaste stain, guitar picks, Sting, recycled plastic, capo, Turkish silk scarf, gifted Bát Tràng ceramic, tiny Jake, found ceramic, broken usb charger cord, etching tool, Queen Ink, Nepalese mallots, UE Boom, found acetate, found basalt, twine, recycled wire, fluorite crystal, ink, found plastic, usb stick, hand dyed handwoven khadi tote bag, acrylic on canvas, ink on paper, dimensions variable.

I raise this temple in flux, transition, change. Again and again, I change, you change. I left Dublin not knowing who she was when I was away from her, that dirty aul town. 

My tongue tasted differently when I knew I wasn’t coming back. More tense than before, unsure of the steadfast tenacity I had previously displayed. I looked at myself as I jumped from moment to moment. Collaborating with my past and future selves, asking them if it was worth it, if they knew the way. Softly they hissed, ‘We didn’t/We don’t/We do.’

A.farm of seeds, of wooden floors. Roots and motorbikes screeched and cried. I hummed in concert, through practice and rhythm. I gathered. I scavenged. I haggled. I spied. 

I unpacked my things and spread them around, discarded survivors, and artefacts gathered from all corners of the globe. Bones dug up from past lives, crushed up into a tonic of artistic self definition. 

I explored my inner vision through pigmented gestures and stacked high future fossils for the Anthropocene. I pressed them together with rebar resonators, observing their transformation into acoustic amplifiers. It’s never too late to reinvent the bicycle. Urban destruction paves way to urban reinvention. The churning machine of industry forges on. The road was outside and now it's in my nostrils, my ears and under my fingernails. 

The hum of activity, buzzing around the not-so-ancient ancient house pulsed and bounced rhythmically through the days. Poets, artists, historians, playing, investigating, experiencing. I share my magic and my curiosity, while the monsoon rain falls like clockwork, dissipating as suddenly as it came, leaving the scent of cam and incense in the air. 

I learned that I have a northern accent, my friendships grew and climbed. I walked the Thieves Market with Bert, I climbed the highway junk yards and drank nước mía, sometimes twice a day. 

I was curated and influenced; supported and pushed; exposed then hidden; drowned and resurrected. 

I cycled through the back doors of gated communities and left with armfuls of trash. Temporary treasures, temporary temples. 

I was a dragon then a snake. Vibrations curled my whiskers and transitions murmured, shifting in the face of God as she lectured me, fractals of reality, visions of what I want to see. 

I reconfigure to understand, each composition revealing how much more there is to learn. 

The following images were taken at the open studio event showcasing the work I produced during my residency. Guests were invited to interact with the sculpture, generating an immersive and thoughtful investigation into material and process.