Hello from Hackney Wick Woods,
Dear you,
How many letters do you receive that leave room for failure? I’d like to receive more. Letters where something remains unresolved, fragments where the writer hasn’t yet found a useful lesson in whatever went wrong.
So I’m sending you one.
Emily Dickinson wrote: “One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—”.
I’m writing from a place where there are trees cut down to protect the water pipes beneath them, luxury flats rising above the bridge, and often clothing labels on the ground. I don’t know who wore the garment, but the label is still here (£7.99).
Some time ago, I appointed myself artist in residence under the A12 bridge. I spent three months photographing the woods, finishing a red moon costume and making a document to certify the residency. I needed somewhere to work, and some permission to be there. I wrote my own. It was a turning point which is why I’m sharing this here, as I build a world around my work.
Looking back at those photographs, I recognise how much of my attention went towards things that had fallen, broken, or been left behind. I was feeling peripheral myself. Perhaps that made me more attentive to the company.
The area’s artists survive in the stories told to make it desirable, even as finding space to live and work here becomes harder. I wonder how long a place can trade on the presence of people it can no longer accommodate. I see ghosts around here.
I’m sending you a few fragments from that residency. There is a figure dressed as a moon beneath a road, and a document insisting that this counts.
I still need that insistence.
If you write back, you don’t have to bring good news. I’d like to hear about something you haven’t found a place for.
With slippery hands,
Milou
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Under the A12 Bridge Residency, 2023-24, photographic documentation of the area.
Current Affairs
A few things are taking shape: more letters, some work that will soon be available to buy, and news about Wet Like that I can’t wait to share. I’m finishing the last bit of mixing before I let myself have that pleasure.
This letter looks into the past. I’ll write again soon with news from the present, and a little of what’s to come.
In the meantime, let's meet in the woods.
Find more on the website.
Under the A12 Bridge — self-appointed residency document.
A speculative document granting myself permission to occupy the role of artist in residence. The three months spent working in Hackney Wick’s woods were real; I supplied the authority on paper.
Fragment from the archive
Under the A12 Bridge Residency, 2023-24, photographic documentation of the area with costume
