Every year, the Royal College of Art holds an exhibition called Hidden. It’s different from the usual end-of-year shows. This one doesn’t feature students or well-known artists. It shines a spotlight on RCA’s technical and non-academic staff, the people who keep the place running every day, often in the background.
In 2024, Hidden returned to the Hangar space in the Studio Building at Battersea. It was, once again, brilliant.
The work on display was wildly varied: paintings, sculptures, jewellery, photography, cyanotypes, ceramics, book illustrations, posters, virtual reality setups, a bicycle-powered image scroll, sound installations, and even a hand-built car. One minute you're looking at flower arrangements, the next you're inside a computer game coded by someone who usually fixes 3D printers.
One of the projects that has stayed with me is by Amir, a staff member and friend, who stitched panoramic street images into one seamless scroll. You control it by pedaling a bicycle. As you speed up or slow down, the image moves with you. Beyond the fun of the interface, there’s a deep poetic rhythm to it, about memory, place, and time.
Every year, I go to Hidden with my camera. It started as a personal side project. Now it’s become something I look forward to. Some of these images have been used by RCA’s official archives. But what moves me most is when staff members themselves appreciate the photographs, when they feel seen.
Hidden is a reminder that art doesn’t always sit in a studio. Sometimes it’s made in between classes.
Sometimes it’s made in the mind of the person adjusting your projector or cleaning your gallery floor. You never really know who’s making what, until you look.
