Q: You call your sculptures “Tools for Social Transformation.” A tool implies function, a sculpture implies contemplation. By calling your work tools, are you asking something of the viewer that art usually doesn’t?

A: Ahhh, interesting — because I actually think sculpture contains function, and tools invite contemplation too. Every tool asks: How are you going to use me? You can use a hammer to build something — or to smash someone’s head in. For me, it’s not function versus contemplation. I’m interested in the space between the two: the moment when intention becomes action, and an object makes us aware of our own agency.

Q: How do you choose your materials, and what does each one carry into the work before you’ve even started?

A: It can go both ways. Sometimes there’s an idea first and I search for the material, sometimes the material starts the conversation. I think of material as a partner. It has its own language, its own character and its own limits — a bit like a relationship. At some point it might simply say: Nope, I’m not going to do that. Then the interesting part begins: do you force it, give up, or stay with the trouble and negotiate another way forward? That’s often where the magic lies.