There is something quite perfect in these miniature landscapes. They float by like islands adrift, their meticulous construction adding to their charm. Like a diorama or sculptural maquette their scale is key to their beauty, always in stark contrast to the world around it. They are in a sense impossible landscapes; a trick of the eye, condensed perfection. There is something invitational about O’Grady’s scenes that alternate between the pedestrian and the sublime. An immediacy that teases us to dare perch on the edge of the rock face under the shade of the tree or curl up in a plastic corner of a caravan. But we can’t. These are landscapes that we are forbidden through scale to inhabit. The fetish of miniature.
‘Only give me back the world I threw away’ ‘Other possible Locations’
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Post author Gemma Brace