* Art Practice Rooted in Landscape and Geology. The Hide Art Residency Gloucestershire, UK
The Hide Residency: Notes from the Beginning
As I begin my residency at The Hide in the third week, I feel a loosening—an opening in approaching the work. Much of this shift comes from a recent critique and discussion with Alice, which helped me reframe where I’m heading.
Residencies always bring the environment into the work and shows up as if on its own accord, shaping how I work. This time, though, I’m merging that response with a project: exploring phytoremediation, the use of plants and trees to detoxify soil on abandoned mine and quarry sites. At first, I had no idea how to weave this scientific concept into my art practice. The challenge has been finding links between the way I naturally work—mark-making, layering, experimenting—and the research itself. It requires patience, which has not always been my strength, but I’m beginning to develop it through walking meditations and noticing their benefits.
Digging Beneath the Surface
My overarching interest has always been with what lies underneath: the hidden, the honest, the overlooked value of the earth. Mining and quarrying, after all, are about tearing geology from below and building with it above—an ancient yet strangely unsettling concept.
This curiosity runs deep. As a small child, I would bury small dead animals (birds and mice killed by the many cats most likely) in marked graves, later digging them up to see what had changed. What remained of feathers or fur? What did the bones look like? That same fascination with transformation, with what lies beneath, continues to inform my work.
Materials in Play
Paper, drawing, and painting are my familiar foundations, but here I’ve been drawn into more dimensional work using willow sticks readily available on site. Interestingly, willow itself is a plant known to aid phytoremediation, helping break down arsenic, cadmium, and lead in contaminated soils. Tall fescue, another phytoremediator, thrives around abandoned mine sites, working with underground mycelial networks to process toxic chemicals in water and soil.
So, in both research and practice, I’m working with ideas of buried becoming unburied, of transformation beneath the surface, led by roots, fungi, and time.
Process and Approach
How would I summarise my process? Perhaps like this:
Investigation as practice—letting the work guide me, as much as I guide it.
Mark-making as inquiry—each gesture exchanged for knowledge, information, or insight.
Visual language as emotion—reaching into consciousness where words fall short.
There’s also a ritual element, a leaning into the “discovery & magic in the science” of what plants can do. It feels close to an Indigenous perspective—acknowledging and giving gratitude for what the earth and its systems offer—so that the work is not just mine, but part of something larger.
Looking Ahead
The question I hold now is how these thoughts and experiments can evolve into something visually clear without becoming overly complicated—something playful, engaging, and alive for me to work with and share.
The Hide Residency: Exploring Phytoremediation Through Art
Artist reflections from The Hide Residency: weaving phytoremediation, willow, and mycelium into an ecological art practice that explores what lies beneath.
Read MoreAugust 18th 2025 Healing the Land: How Phytoremediation Uses Plants to Detoxify Polluted Soil
Geology—rock and stone, the very skeleton of the land we live on—has always inspired me. Beneath our feet lies not only a foundation but also a record of history: layers formed over millions of years, reshaped by human activity through mining and quarrying. When we bring what is buried to the surface, we often leave scars on the land. My work explores this tension—between what is hidden and revealed, stable and disrupted—and how these ideas can be expressed visually through mixed media while learning about abandoned mine remediation
My two artist residencies in Iceland were pivotal in connecting my practice to landscape in a deeper way. They also introduced me to biodesign, specifically the process of phytoremediation: using plants to detoxify polluted soil. This method has growing importance in the rehabilitation of abandoned mines and quarries worldwide.
I have explored several sites marked by extraction: silver mines in Nevada (USA), left as vast open pits on what are now government-issued Indian reservations; a lead mine in the Mendips (UK); a deserted copper mine in southern Ireland; and countless quarries that remain as empty voids, visible even through satellite images online. These places are not just industrial remnants—they also carry environmental legacies in the form of toxic tailings, where heavy metals such as lead, arsenic, and cadmium persist in the soil long after mining has ended.
Phytoremediation offers a promising, nature-based solution. Certain plants—including grasses, trees, and shrubs—can take up contaminants through their roots and either store, transform, or stabilize them. Tall fescue (Festuca arundinacea), for example, is known for its ability to stabilize soil structure while absorbing pollutants. Even more compelling is its symbiotic relationship with mycelium, the underground fungal networks that extend root systems and enhance the breakdown and redistribution of toxins. Together, these living systems form a cooperative network that gradually restores ecological balance to damaged ground.
What fascinates me most is the hidden nature of this process: the cellular-level exchanges between roots, fungi, and soil chemistry. These invisible interactions represent both a scientific strategy for detoxifying landscapes and a metaphor for resilience—quiet systems working in collaboration to heal what has been poisoned and disturbed.