Pipilotti Rist’s innovative approach to video art and immersive installation has been a significant source of inspiration for my own artistic practice. Her ability to create emotionally charged, sensory-rich environments resonates deeply with my experiences working with children in educational and therapeutic settings, particularly in sensory rooms. These encounters, especially with clients who struggled emotionally or preferred the safety of staying home, have shaped my creative direction. Through my work, I aim to evoke empathy and raise awareness of these often unseen emotional and social realities.
My practice currently centres on video installations and performance drawing. I’m particularly drawn to circular forms. This fascination stems from my time working with children who displayed repetitive behaviours or who resisted change, behaviours that, while challenging, taught me patience and compassion. Over time, I’ve come to see the circle as a symbol of emotional containment, repetition, and continuity, a visual manifestation of the loops and cycles I witnessed.
Lygia Clark’s performative and therapeutic approach to art has influenced my own method of performance drawing. When I draw, I move slowly and meditatively. It’s a quiet, intentional act, one that allows me to process complex emotions and resist the stress or anxiety of external pressures. Drawing in this way becomes both a personal coping strategy and a gesture of care for the individuals and experiences I hold in mind as I work.
Material choice is also central to my practice. I often incorporate soft, tactile materials, fabrics, cushions, gentle textures, that evoke comfort, safety, and emotional grounding. My interest in these materials is informed by sensory integration theory and trauma-informed design, both of which emphasise the importance of creating environments that support nervous system regulation. These ideas connect to Winnicott’s theory of the “holding environment”. The notion that emotional and psychological development depends on the presence of consistent, nurturing support. Through my installations and performances, I try to recreate that experience: of being held, gently and without pressure.
Ernesto Neto’s immersive installations have also shaped my understanding of the relationship between the body, space, and material. His use of soft, organic forms and multisensory engagement inspires my own ambitions to create enveloping, sensory-based environments. During the MA in Fine Art, I hope to deepen this strand of my practice by developing large-scale installation works that continue to explore these themes. My goal is to exhibit these installations as part of an ongoing, socially engaged artistic journey that balances emotional depth with material sensitivity.
My work explores comfort, care, and emotional connection through immersive, multisensory installations. I often use soft materials, fabrics, cushions, and gentle textures that invite touch and offer a sense of safety. These choices are rooted in principles of sensory integration and trauma-informed design, where calming, tactile environments can help regulate the nervous system and create a sense of emotional ease. My experience working with children in specialist care settings, particularly those with sensory and emotional needs, has deeply shaped this approach. I’ve witnessed how soft, responsive environments can ground, soothe, and foster trust, and I aim to evoke that same sense of being gently held in my works
The circle appears repeatedly in my drawings, and I’ve started to reflect on why. In my experience working with children — especially in educational or therapeutic settings — I often encountered repetitive behaviours. Some children were stubborn, resistant to change, or caught in emotional loops. These moments were challenging, yet they taught me patience and deepened my sense of empathy. I now see the repetition of circles in my work as a reflection of those experiences — perhaps a way to process or contain the emotional weight of that environment. In my performance drawing, I move slowly and calmly, almost meditatively. I don’t like stress or anxiety, and my drawing becomes a way to resist that pressure — a quiet act of care, for both myself and those I’m thinking about as I work.
Rona Thorne 