Spectre

Site-Specific Installation, 2009

Spectre was built beneath a building with a glass ceiling, where hundreds of carefully placed pinholes acted as tiny cameras, projecting fragmented images of the sky onto the surrounding walls. These ghostly projections shifted as the sky did—planes passing, clouds forming and dissolving, light bending and breaking.

At the centre of the space sat a raised mirrored structure—an intentional misdirection. At first, it seemed the focal point, but as the door closed and time passed, its true purpose revealed itself.

Spectre was a quiet conjuring, an invitation to see the world differently—to notice time folding in on itself, to witness something both fleeting and eternal. It played with ambiguity, with the mundane magic of everyday phenomena, with presence and absence.

And, if I’m being honest, I’ve always wanted to make an artwork that conjured spirits. In that way, Spectre was a fucking triumph.