The Remotely Speaking series of works by Neïl Beloufa play on this age old tension made new again. It’s been inflamed by the hibernation we’ve been doing over the pandemic. However, its roots, along with signs of the artworld struggling to legitimize the object again, began well before the pandemic. Pre-COVID, you could waltz around any art fair, say you liked something and a gallery attendant would show you an iPad with the entire catalogue of that artists work, flattening space and time, making it feel like all of the gallery’s storage from home base, to freeports in Luxembourg and Singapore were accessible to you. Now that we, for the most part, had to cut back on the fair attendance, the online viewing room was sold as that new exclusive experience.

A series of reliefs, that recall (to this writer at least) the work of Gauguin, are carved out of MDF and finished with coloured leathers. This textured flatness, gives the characters and visages an air of being entrapped in gloss; like Han Solo frozen in carbonite. A formal touch that echoes further with augmented reality, allowing the figures to be re-animated. However, what they reveal may not be deep truths of fantastical stories, but rather the anxieties and trappings of an artwork relegated to a lifetime in storage, never satisfied with their position in the online viewing room. The artworks regard their artist as a revered parent, with adoration and respect. The essence of the artist's gesture, emotions and spirit live on in them, it's clear, but the layers of removal and abstraction from the real space of the exhibition and public has clearly soured their souls.