Edgelands, where city and country find and lose each other.  Old industrial sites reclaimed by nature; the old ways of maintaining wetlands, riverbanks and hedgerows lost.


Large sculptures, tall and dark…could they fall and cause damage?  They seem to loom and threaten, yet are merely paper. But this is no trompe l’oeil – they are not illusory. The viewer is constructing what is seen, making what they can – seeing more or less. The play, the story, unfolds in time as a flower opens, not in a linear way, but within a forest of imagination created by the players.

© 2019 Harriet Aston