(Above) I tried to make a sandwich, but this happened (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm

Portable Portals

Reality is having a laugh at our expense. A deep, elongated belly laugh that creates ripples in the
heavy, velvet fabric of our world. You go to move but have learned (the hard way) that what was
once concrete, is now more likely to give way beneath you. It is sticky, it is absorbing, it is quite
possibly jelly. Day in day out, this wrong-footing makes its own rhythm, an anti-heartbeat that
stutters uncontrollably, or else stretches and lags like neon strings of gum. The rhythm is not
quite danceable, but it becomes possible, gradually, to live by. It is an adjustment – the
refocusing of a lens so that initial blurriness forms suddenly sharper edges. Soft bewilderments
becoming geometry before your cat-like eye.

In this series of drawings, begun in the tumultuous summer of 2020, Rita Evans gives form and vivid colour to the experience of processing seismic global events from the slippery edge of the
bath. Hers is an intensified interior landscape, the site of malleable, transformative encounters
between us and the textures of our domestic world. There is precarity and disintegration at
every turn, but there is endless possibility too. Her abstraction of bodies, objects and spaces
into a common visual language of colour and shape, creates their shared and equal potential for
slippage, for movement that is fluid – queasy but full of juice. Each of these drawings is the holding of a moment. Out of solitude, stillness and the tactile process of pencil on paper, a space opens up, expansive and exciting; suddenly there is a crowd, a problem, a question, a door! They map our desire for communication and physical touch, tracing its edges and forming blueprints for its expansion beyond limits, both real and of the mind.

I for one am grateful for the strategies they suggest. For something fantastic. For laughing. For
a door where there wasn’t a door. For wherever we are at this moment – necessarily indoors or
ecstatically out – striding toward one another, nothing but jelly underfoot.

Amy Lay-Pettifer, for Aleph Contemporary, 2021

I tried to move in, but it fell through (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm
All I wanted was bellows for my iron foundry (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm
I went to another dimension and I found this banana skin (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm
I tried to get in the bath, but this bar chart got in the way (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm
My money melted, but that’s ok because so did the bank (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm
Burning Bright My New Tools (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 28 x 38cm
Peel Me (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 28 x 38cm
Basement, available now, fully furnished (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm
My Window Heart (2020). Graphite, colour pencil & spray paint on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm
Radiator (2020). Colour Pencil, spray paint and graphite on handmade paper. 29 x 42cm