In a white-walled gallery with windows along one side, various domestic objects that have been modified are placed at intervals around the floor and on the walls.
There's a white cushion on a bed of old upholstery springs that still have scraps of foam attached. The centre of the cushion is weighed down by a blob of dried cement or grey clay with a grainy texture. One one side of the blob is a patch of raised nodes like a shag-pile carpet set hard, and on the other side is a patch of similar nodes, but longer and toppling in every direction.
Close to the windows is an ironing board with its padded cover removed and the metal grating underneath torn away and falling to pieces. On the end of the ironing board that isn't tapered, a moulded blob of gold is resting on the metal. It's smooth in the centre, but with more of the node shapes protruding from its rough edges.
In the centre of the room is an old-fashioned wooden stool - oblong-shaped, like a piano stool - with raised wooden handles on either side. Its upholstery is missing, leaving only a panel of mouldy canvas backing in the wooden frame where a cushion should be. And resting on the canvas is a moulded lump of white clay or plaster, shaped almost like a human heart, with smooth and grainy patches and a ruched section on its broader end.
A white airconditioning unit is attached to the wall with the windows in it, and sitting on top of the unit, on its right-hand end, is a small pottery cup with a dark-brown glaze on its outer surface and gold-and-silver marbling on its buckled, lumpy inner surface and lip. A cluster of bumps spills over the rim of the cup in one place like a dangling bunch of grapes.
On one of the walls, two off-white sculptures are hung side by side. They resemble flattened piles of lace or bandages cast in plaster, and each has one rough, honeycomb edge exposed and sprinkled with bright colour - blue on the left-hand sculpture and red on the right-hand one.
The objects are placed far apart so that the room as a whole appears virtually empty.
Fade to black.
Residue doesn’t come out from under the rug
Residue doesn’t come out from under the rug examines the significance of objects in the domestic space through collected memory. The inverse of the supported object is absent yet is wiped over with the psychological qualities of the abject, memory and subtle intimacy.