“These are diary notations of an artist living his life directly through the medium of his canvases, a process of the most painfully intense kind. Brutal, yet divine.”
Moscow Times, December 2013.

Strong memories were awoken writing this piece to set the tone to announce this ten-year anniversary catalogue, which contains the complete collection of works. The series is figurative, and its creation was the result of a monumental task, drawing every ounce of strength required to complete it.

It all began in late 2013, when I drove my entire studio, packed into a truck, to Moscow and took over a studio space at the Red October chocolate factory in the heart of Russia’s capital. The space I chose was a difficult one: a disused basement of the historic red-brick complex that housed one of Russia’s oldest confectionaries between 1851 and 1994. I moved into building one, where it had all begun for the legendary Red October brand.

Today, my former studio is surrounded by high-profile architects, digital bureaux, art galleries, and media companies. In stark contrast, ten years ago the space was primal and unused for over seventy years, requiring major work before the vast water tanks planned for the project could be installed. My neighbours at the time were few and far between: a boxing gym, a handful of bars, and the megaclubs Gypsy and Arma.

The previously unused basement was transformed into a fully functional photographic studio, with past works hanging on the walls, a dressmaking studio, props for new scenes in fabrication, and hay stacks serving as my bed for the next five months.

I still firmly believe that it was only genuine to make the works for the Russian exhibition from within Russia itself, using local materials and inspiration, rather than shipping them from the London studio. Triumph Gallery had hosted only two other British artists before me for solo exhibitions: The Chapman Brothers and Damien Hirst. The idea prompted me to surrender my London studio and move to a country I had visited only briefly weeks earlier, knowing it would mean winter months in a derelict space without heating, toilets, or even running water.

So the preparation for Rastvorennaya Pechal, which translates as “dissolved sadness,” or Distil Ennui in English, began. What unfolded next could fill a novel: a story interwoven with grand pianos, field trips to source materials, intense studio sessions, and processes mixed with outlandish parties fuelled by a continual stream of unexpected visitors. News travelled fast around Moscow about the mad English artist living, drinking, and creating like a Russian.

You can download the ten-year anniversary catalogue here .