I began this project handling everything that happens before an artwork gets seen—cleaning out the space, painting walls, drilling fixtures, rigging lights, setting up digital screens, and making sure things didn’t fall apart, literally and technically. This wasn’t about high-profile titles or structured hierarchies. It was about showing up, getting things done, and being useful where it mattered.
A big part of the joy came from working closely with the two founders of the show, Maria and April. They were full of energy—driven, kind, and generous with their trust. I loved assisting them, supporting their vision while also being trusted with my own creative decisions.
There were other beautiful moments too. I helped my friend Amir Behbani with his project Strolls. I also remember this one work that hung massive curled sheets of paper from the ceiling. It was so gentle yet impactful. The artist of that work, who studied at RCA, and I ended up having a long, thoughtful conversation afterward.
I live for moments like that—where the technical overlaps with the emotional, where art leads to connection.
And then there was photography—my zone. I photographed the whole exhibition.
What made me genuinely happy was when the team ended up using my photos on the official social media handles and for archival material. Even though there was an official photographer, they picked my visuals. Maria and others were genuinely thankful for the shots, and that appreciation means the world to me.
Exhibition photography is something I really enjoy—and I’m open to doing more of that.
1. Exhibition documentation isn’t just coverage—it’s conversation.
2. Small roles don’t mean small impact.
3. I realised I’m most alive when I’m in these hybrid zones—between creative and technical, between support and authorship.
4. I’m interested in working with curators, artists, and exhibition teams—not just to build the space, but to think with them. To help the work exist, feel, and function.
