My art practice focuses on our relationships with familiar objects and how they are connected to feelings of longing, invoke memory and explore language, place, and the feminine. I see salvaged objects to be akin to a type of shorthand material language, as they can instantly connect us to complex memories of events and emotions beyond words, discussing complex socio-political issues in a poetic way. The objects I use in my artworks are salvaged from the tip or the verge, and are originally from the domestic realm of the home. They have an intimacy with the human body, many are prosthetic sense objects in which our sense of boundary of the self is lost within the object. Chairs, tables, hot-water bottles, crutches, ladders, beds, cots, hand-tools, gloves, shoes and musical instruments, such objects can be strong sites of longing, fear, desire, loss and identity. I also like to play with language and the terminology of objects, to alter how we perceive a thing.

I am interested in alternative understandings of repair as opposed to restoration to former wholeness and utility. I make visible my gestures of repair toward broken objects and purposefully employ materials that have a reference to the human body materially. Felt, hair, wax and textiles, embody the object. I like to play with the curious suggestion that objects could be imagined to have parallel lives and hardships to our own. I repair them into new autonomous objects, free to leap across the room, to play, to retaliate, to be other than they are expected to be, to go beyond their objecthood. The ordinary object becomes a psychological object, the uncanny.

I particularly like objects that are marked by traces of the absent human through time in the wear and tear of regular use. There is an aesthetic of longing in these objects that is inspiring. Absence is also felt when functionality of the object is denied, and consequently we become aware of the very nature of the object itself, its presence. I also make casts (or ghosts ) of objects in various materials, porcelain, bronze, felt  and beeswax. I consider my body as a collected object to make work with. Making direct casts of my feet, hands, ears, lips and breasts; I thereby situates my work firmly within a feminine perspective. 

Felt has been a longterm interest as an intriguing sculptural material, with one foot in our Neolithic nomadic past and one foot in industrial society. Like other textiles of haptic allure, felt has an immediate intimacy with the viewer’s own body, but also to animal nature, often engaging direct visceral responses. Making felt is a laboriously physical action, made directly with the hand, agitating the wool fibres to encourage them to entangle together. The performative element of feltmaking lends vitality to the material that is often palpable. Felt is a matrix, non-linear, without axis, constantly in flux, shifting during and after it’s forming. Often perceived to be a lowly material of necessity, it is found laying underneath the floorboards, in between the cogs in machines, inside musical instruments and wrapped around nomads houses. Larkin's work reveals felt to be many things outside of its ordinary associations. She engages felt as symbolic narrative, healing substance, insulation device, connection to animal nature, to haptic human senses, to our first origins, and as a way to investigate various objects in the world. 

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About

My art practice focuses on our relationships with familiar objects and how they are connected to feelings of longing, invoke memory and explore language, place, and the feminine. I see salvaged objects to be akin to a type of shorthand material language, as they can instantly connect us to complex memories of events and emotions beyond words, discussing complex socio-political issues in a poetic way. The objects I use in my artworks are salvaged from the tip or the verge, and are originally from the domestic realm of the home. They have an intimacy with the human body, many are prosthetic sense objects in which our sense of boundary of the self is lost within the object. Chairs, tables, hot-water bottles, crutches, ladders, beds, cots, hand-tools, gloves, shoes and musical instruments, such objects can be strong sites of longing, fear, desire, loss and identity. I also like to play with language and the terminology of objects, to alter how we perceive a thing.

I am interested in alternative understandings of repair as opposed to restoration to former wholeness and utility. I make visible my gestures of repair toward broken objects and purposefully employ materials that have a reference to the human body materially. Felt, hair, wax and textiles, embody the object. I like to play with the curious suggestion that objects could be imagined to have parallel lives and hardships to our own. I repair them into new autonomous objects, free to leap across the room, to play, to retaliate, to be other than they are expected to be, to go beyond their objecthood. The ordinary object becomes a psychological object, the uncanny.

I particularly like objects that are marked by traces of the absent human through time in the wear and tear of regular use. There is an aesthetic of longing in these objects that is inspiring. Absence is also felt when functionality of the object is denied, and consequently we become aware of the very nature of the object itself, its presence. I also make casts (or ghosts ) of objects in various materials, porcelain, bronze, felt  and beeswax. I consider my body as a collected object to make work with. Making direct casts of my feet, hands, ears, lips and breasts; I thereby situates my work firmly within a feminine perspective. 

Felt has been a longterm interest as an intriguing sculptural material, with one foot in our Neolithic nomadic past and one foot in industrial society. Like other textiles of haptic allure, felt has an immediate intimacy with the viewer’s own body, but also to animal nature, often engaging direct visceral responses. Making felt is a laboriously physical action, made directly with the hand, agitating the wool fibres to encourage them to entangle together. The performative element of feltmaking lends vitality to the material that is often palpable. Felt is a matrix, non-linear, without axis, constantly in flux, shifting during and after it’s forming. Often perceived to be a lowly material of necessity, it is found laying underneath the floorboards, in between the cogs in machines, inside musical instruments and wrapped around nomads houses. Larkin's work reveals felt to be many things outside of its ordinary associations. She engages felt as symbolic narrative, healing substance, insulation device, connection to animal nature, to haptic human senses, to our first origins, and as a way to investigate various objects in the world. 

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