How did the project begin for you?
I responded to the open call and was immediately fascinated by the site itself. West Horsley Place has these incredible layers of history - foundations that are potentially over 1,000 years old, alongside a 17th-century façade. I’ve always been interested in architecture and how buildings carry traces of time, so that really connected with my practice.
At the same time, I was thinking about the estate’s relationship with nature and landscape, and how those ideas could come together. The work became a way of exploring future archaeology, geology and the Anthropocene - the idea of humanity’s imprint on the planet over deep time.
Ideas of time and geology seem central to your work. Where does that come from?
I became fascinated by the idea of how small we are in comparison to geological time. Fossils can remain buried for millions of years, and I started thinking about what traces our own civilisation might leave behind.
A big influence was the writer Robert Macfarlane, particularly his book Underland. It completely changed the way I think about landscape, deep time and what exists beneath the surface of the world.
What drew you specifically to West Horsley Place?
There were lots of small architectural details that interested me - the textures, decorative elements and especially the doorway, which became an important reference point in the sculpture.
I was also interested in the idea of architectural layering: how buildings evolve, decay and survive over centuries. That connected naturally with my ongoing interest in ruins, erosion and nature reclaiming built environments.
The sculpture seems to merge architecture with natural forms. Was that intentional?
Very much so. I’m interested in how nature might reclaim cities and human-made structures in the future. What happens when concrete foundations, industrial materials and domestic waste become part of the geological record.
The sculpture imagines future sediments and formations - surfaces that resemble lichen, fossils, erosion or underwater stone. It’s about nature digesting and transforming what humans leave behind.
Water and landscape seem important to the piece too.
Yes, definitely. I was inspired by the landscape around West Horsley Place, particularly its clay soil, ditches and history of waterlogged ground and natural springs.
The colours in the sculpture - blues, greens and earth tones - reference water, preservation and erosion. Fossils are often preserved in clay, and I was thinking a lot about those geological layers and cycles of preservation and decay.
How did you approach placing the sculpture in the landscape?
We wanted the sculpture to feel discovered rather than simply displayed. Its position creates a relationship with two oak trees nearby - one living and one dead - which felt symbolically important.
As visitors move around it, they’ll see the landscape framed through the structure. I wanted it to encourage people to slow down, walk around it and engage with the surroundings differently.
Has creating work for a historic site changed your practice?
In some ways this project expands ideas I was already exploring. I’ve previously made smaller works based on architectural mouldings and overlooked details from historic buildings, but this is my first large-scale commission.
Working at this scale has allowed me to push those ideas much further and think more ambitiously about how sculpture can exist in a landscape.
Were there any unexpected challenges?
Many! The internal metal structure was much more complicated than I anticipated, especially at this scale. Because the sculpture was too large to transport in one piece, a lot of the construction had to happen on site.
The weather was also a challenge, and balancing the project alongside being a new mum added another layer entirely. But we’ve had amazing support from volunteers and art students who helped bring the project to life.
What do you hope visitors experience when they encounter the sculpture?
I hope it sparks curiosity. I want people to wonder what it is - whether it’s a ruin, a fossil or something unfamiliar emerging from the landscape.
The work frames views of the landscape while also becoming part of it. In a way, it turns the idea of a picture frame or painting inside out - the sculpture itself becomes the frame through which visitors see the world around them.
Why are opportunities like this important for artists?
Commissions like this are incredibly valuable, especially for emerging artists. There simply aren’t enough opportunities to create ambitious public work at scale, particularly early in a career.
Projects like this allow artists to experiment, grow and connect with audiences in completely different ways. I think sculpture belongs in landscapes and public spaces - it changes how people experience a place.
Why is the sculpture called A Glorious Sham?
The title connects both to the façade of the house and to this idea that things are not always quite what they seem. There’s beauty and permanence, but also fragility, erosion and change beneath the surface. A Glorious Sham is also a nod to the late Bamber Gascoigne. The broadcaster and author used the phrase about the estate after inheriting it in 2014.
The project used a conservation-led approach to ensure all work on the historic house was carried out sensitively and safely. Visitors will soon be able to experience the new commission at West Horsley Place as part of the estate’s ongoing heritage and arts programme.
