si sapsford
Film
In Paradisum is a meditation on memory, absence and the fragile ways in which relationships endure across time. The soundtrack is formed from fragmented piano pieces played by the artist's mother, learned from her father during childhood. Having lost him at the age of twelve, and with few memories of their life together, the music became one of the closest remaining connections to him. As remembered melodies dissolve into hesitation, repetition and silence, the work reflects on the ways memory is continually reconstructed. Fragments become enough to evoke a presence, suggesting that what survives is often less a complete recollection than an emotional trace. The moving image unfolds alongside this act of remembering, placing past and future in quiet dialogue. Rather than mourning what has been lost, In Paradisum reflects on resilience, inheritance and the subtle ways in which those we love continue to shape us long after they are gone.
This work exists as a sculpture but also as a moving image installation projection in the Gallery Space. Created during a residency at Cité Internationale des Arts in Paris, Time Clips the Wings of Love emerged after Si Sapsford heard a pianist perform the piece in the concert hall beneath the studios. The image is cinematic and deeply familiar: a woman at a dressing table in fading light, suspended in the moment before a first dance. Skirted in yellow organza, the dressing table becomes both object and body—holding anticipation, desire, and the fragile intensity of memory.Moving in rhythm with the music, the sculpture accelerates and slows, mirroring the unstable nature of recollection itself. An angled mirror reflects the viewer back into the work, collapsing the boundary between observer and memory.
I Watch You explores the uneasy relationship between observation, vulnerability and power. The work inhabits the ambiguous space between looking and being looked at, where curiosity, care and surveillance become difficult to distinguish. Drawing on the quiet, repetitive rhythms of the moving image, the film creates a sense of suspended attention. What first appears gentle gradually becomes disquieting, inviting reflection on the subtle ways we experience presence, control and the awareness of being seen.
Rock reflects on navigation, uncertainty and the fragile passage between danger and safety. Filmed from archival footage of fishing boats returning to harbour in rough seas, the work observes a journey shaped by forces that are both visible and unseen. A submerged rock, once a critical marker guiding vessels safely towards the harbour entrance, becomes a quiet metaphor for the obstacles and points of orientation that determine our passage through life. The changing sea, together with the stillness of a hovering seabird, creates a tension between vulnerability and endurance, struggle and calm. Rather than documenting a specific place or event, Rock considers the human experience of negotiating uncertainty, and the resilience required to find a way through.
Hope and Glory explores resilience, endurance and the complex relationship between achievement and recognition. Interweaving moving image with conversation, the work reflects on perseverance in the face of failure, questioning the systems by which success is measured and legitimacy is conferred. Set against the stark landscape of snow and shaped by a dialogue around the contested Jules Verne Trophy attempt by Steve Fossett and his crew, the film moves beyond documentary to become a meditation on persistence, integrity and the human capacity to continue despite uncertainty. Rather than offering resolution, Hope and Glory leaves open questions about fairness, value and what it means to keep going when recognition remains elusive.
Presented at monumental scale—projected ten storeys high onto a building in Rio de Janeiro—and later within the intimacy of a derelict house, the work shifts between spectacle and vulnerability, romantic myth and lived experience, asking what remains after memory, desire, and time have done their work.
Created in response to an invitation to participate in a collective swim exploring environmental concerns, Longest Night Swim became a solitary action performed on the longest night of the year. While others entered the water in daylight on the opposite side of the world, the artist swam alone in darkness, connected by a shared intention yet separated by distance, season and time. The slowed moving image and elongated sound dissolve the experience into a contemplative meditation on duration, presence and parallel realities. The work reflects on the ways we inhabit the same moment differently, suggesting that connection can exist despite physical separation. Rather than documenting an event, Longest Night Swim invites a heightened awareness of time itself, where repetition, stillness and the continuous rhythm of swimming evoke a sense of suspended time, as though the journey might continue indefinitely.