Simon Parris is a London-based music supervisor and creative consultant. With a background that spans music, fashion, and art, Simon brings a unique perspective to every project, whether he's curating soundtracks for runway shows or connecting global brands with emerging creatives and under-the-radar designers. A longtime collaborator of Kim Jones, his work happens mostly behind the scenes, but his influence can be felt in some of fashion’s most culturally resonant moments.
Congrats on a great season of shows, Simon.
⎯⎯⎯ Thank you.
I wanted to talk a bit about how you see the relationship between music and fashion, and whether you’ve always seen them as intertwined. I know that I always have, especially in relation to music and subcultures, and I think it’s quite specific to the era that we grew up in.
⎯⎯⎯ For many people of my generation, print was really important––magazines specifically. Before moving to London in 1993, I lived in Sussex (South East England) and was avidly buying i-D, Arena and The Face, dreaming. They would look at music, fashion, style, arts and culture and were the origin of my interest in broad spectrum creativity, which hasn’t left me since. It wasn’t only the images and editorial that galvanised me, but also how it was presented. Through reading Arena and The Face, I was introduced to the art direction and typography of Neville Brody, who I found really inspiring. His 1988 publication The Graphic Language of Neville Brody became something of a bible for me at the time, and he can take some responsibility for my teenage obsession with the industrial electronic group Cabaret Voltaire (Brody designed their record covers). I still love them to this day. I was tantalized you are when you read about something that you can’t experience firsthand, perhaps because of your age or location. I had to live vicariously through magazines in that moment, before I was old enough to go out and really experience ‘it’ for myself!
How old were you?
⎯⎯⎯ I think my first nightclub experience was probably 16 years old. I was too young to legally be clubbing, but we found our way into these situations nonetheless.
Yeah, I was going out at 14.
⎯⎯⎯ Thinking of the relationship between fashion and music through collaboration, I remember Soul II Soul had put out their first album, Club Classics Vol. One, in 1989 when I was 15, Neneh Cherry’s Raw Like Sushi came out later the same year, then Massive Attack put out Blue Lines in 1991, all of which were somewhat formative for me at the time. I was aware that there were a number of key players across those releases, other than the musical leads as such––for example producer Nellee Hooper, photographers Jean-Baptiste Mondino and Jamie Morgan, the artist and stylist Judy Blame (the latter two were also a part of the ‘Buffalo' collective), Robert ‘3D’ Del Naja and DJ Mushroom (ex members of The Wild Bunch soundsystem with Hooper before they founded Massive Attack) appeared on Neneh’s LP, and the film director Baillie Walsh (who we went on to work with on Dior and Fendi shows) made remarkable videos for Massive Attack. At the time, I was excited that these releases were born out of collectives and sound system culture, with individuals contributing in distinct ways. They might be a photographer, they might be a musician, they might be a stylist and anything in between. I’m fascinated by that as a model for creation and how people with different expertise could come together to create something which might not only be formative for them, but also for those who would consume it. Soul II Soul had a shop in Camden which stocked fashion, sound equipment and records, and they described it as “an amalgamation of music and style”. They seemed to be very aware of how their music was disseminated, as well as the importance of being a collective. There was a cross-pollination between these strong and distinctive moments in British culture within a period of a few years, where there was a sense of the music industry in London, Bristol, the UK, moving forward in a fascinating way, which made waves internationally as well. I don’t know what your perceptions were of those moments, but maybe they had some visibility for you.
We grew up loving the same things. I can hear Jazzie B saying “an amalgamation of music and style” in my head.
⎯⎯⎯ Exactly! It really drove home the connection between music and fashion. But I didn’t necessarily think of it as fashion; rather, it was an expansion of the feeling that there was a collective behind all of these bands and a communal belonging through association.
In London, there’s a strong precedent for that–Vivienne Westwood, Malcolm McLaren and their shops, as well as the Blitz Kids. This conversation around collectives dovetails into talking about your collaborations with Kim Jones. I know that you’ve known each other for a very long time. You grew up together, and you’ve been collaborating for many years.
⎯⎯⎯ Yeah, Kim and I grew up together, and talking of my first club experience, I would have had that with Kim. From before moving to London, this relationship with music was very much something I shared, at least in part, with him in terms of nightclubs. And that would go on to directly inspire the things which we would start off collaborating on together, where music was a natural point of inspiration and departure. We studied graphic design at Camberwell College of Arts, where my tutors included Scott King (who was Art Director of i-D at the time), Ian Wright (who’s artwork featured in Straight No Chaser, the NME and more) and Simon Larbalestier (best known for his photography for Vaughan Oliver and 4AD). So a very strong music culture alignment! After we graduated, Kim later went on to study at Central Saint Martins, and that was where the fashion component came to fruition in a more concrete way. We both had this vicarious interest in the fashion world, and for me, it wasn’t something I aspired to move towards from a design point of view, but I was always … I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I was interested in it, but I think it was coming out of the ‘style tribes’. Kim wanted to formalize the design component, but was also really interested in doing something you could create a world around. I came to have more direct input on the fusion between music and fashion––helping with his graduate show and being largely responsible for the show soundtracks and print design for his eponymous label thereafter. That was an opportunity for us to explore where music might dovetail with fashion and be an inspiration for the design of clothes and graphics.
Kim’s graduate collection was the one that was installed and sold at the Pineal Eye?
⎯⎯⎯ Yes, it was. The collection was called Music Box, which was a reference to the 1980s Chicago club of the same name and the mix of punk and preppy Ralph Lauren-type styles you might find there. We would have been working on it in early 2000, and the collection itself was for Autumn/Winter 2001/2002. The Pineal Eye was an important shop in London, supporting younger avant-garde design from London and the UK, and also stocking Japanese designers. The installation consisted of a series of mannequins wearing the collection, including printed garments, which I was responsible for, graphics-wise. Some of the printed designs would marry up different music scenes; there was a t-shirt which read EDGE OF THE LOOKING GLASS––a reference to a Chicago night club where Ron Hardy and others had played in the early 90s, which I assume was itself named in reference to Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass. In the novel, Alice enters a fantastical world by climbing through a mirror into a world that she can see beyond it, if so, it’s kind of apt! The graphic alongside the text was a photograph of a hardcore punk band lifted from somewhere, either online or scanned from a release, I can’t quite remember. Kim and I had been interested in the hardcore/post-hardcore scenes, and we would listen to bands such as Black Flag and Fugazi, but we would also be going out to nightclubs. So this was in some ways a lived reference, although we were lifting the name of a club we had never been to alongside an image of a band whose photograph we didn’t take. We were passionate about both of those music scenes, and at the time found it both interesting and paradoxical to marry them up in one graphic. In terms of the more scenic component of that display, it came in part out of my participation in the Deep House Page message board, which was an early online forum primarily around the Chicago and New York music scenes of the 80s and 90s.
I remember that message board. It’s the one where everyone would post mixes and track IDs.
⎯⎯⎯ Yeah, totally. For someone who was based in the UK, it was opening me up to what had been/were predominantly US-based clubs and therefore mixes and DJs. So I would be listening to mixes and reading about personal histories of people attending places like the Loft, the Music Box, the Warehouse, these now legendary clubs. I found Music Box resident Ron Hardy’s mixes particularly inspiring to listen to as he was mixing with this manic energy, riding crazy, pitched-up edits of more soulful tracks over raw Chicago rhythm tracks and bringing in European New Wave, or what have you. Alongside the mixes, people would share the graphics from the flyers for those nights, and I found them completely inspirational in their own right. I would save the JPEGs on my hard drive, and they ended up being printed out at life-size, serving as a backdrop to this first collection of Kim’s. Alongside, we installed a floor-to-ceiling display of our then record collections. It speaks to how important music was for us at the time. I don’t think we could have imagined that moment in Kim’s career without music somehow infusing it.
That’s really interesting. I’m going to pull out some threads here but it feels like what you’re talking about is a kind of mutual dreaming, like we’re perceiving these worlds, either internationally or through different eras and timescales and trying to build or create something out of it in our own lives and communities.
⎯⎯⎯ Exactly. It was a confluence of what came before and the availability of technology and platforms that were relatively new. The message board phenomenon was important for spreading the word about club nights happening that week, but also sharing the history of clubs through mixes from a decade, two decades before. And being in London or Toronto, or wherever it might be, and listening to these things for the first time and dreaming about what it would have been like to be in the room when the DJ was playing this track or that mix for the first time. It was an international moment of reflection and dreaming, and was a way to connect with an intergenerational group of people who were like-minded, in a really genuine way.
Let’s talk a bit about your selection and production process in music supervision. I was quite surprised to read that sometimes supervisors don't actually get to see collections beforehand. I imagine that would be different for your working process with Kim.
⎯⎯⎯ In terms of Kim, one of the peculiarities of my music supervision is that it's one component of my consulting work. Over the last few years, I’ve effectively been moving around as part of the Kim Jones Studio. I'm therefore privy to the inception of a collection because I’ve been in the room with him and his colleagues in the design departments when they’re in the research stage, when the first samples come back, when they're styling. This allows us to have informal conversations, where we might talk about what music is playing in the room when they're working, which can be quite telling. It might be a recurring track or series of tracks which end up defining the process and therefore the collection, and might even end up in the show mix further down the line. Perhaps quite exceptionally, with Kim, I also have the privilege of looking at the fashion show moment in a holistic manner, both in terms of being present for these design conversations, but also leading on communication between him, the production company, and the fashion house on the show set design. This whole process will take several months to half a year, up to the point where I'm on location with the production company as the set is being installed and talking to a sound technician about how the music should be presented and if we need some special requirements for that playback.
It sounds like your Pineal Eye collaboration has really fleshed itself out into something a lot bigger.
⎯⎯⎯ Yes, back in those early days, we did a few installations together, and there was always an interest in the presentation of the collection, but needless to say, the scale was quite different. When it comes to the process of the music side of things, to start us off, Kim might have a track in mind which he would like for a show, or associate with the gestation of a collection. That might be evident early on and act as a prompt for my research, or it might come and go across that several-month period, replaced for creative reasons, or further down the line for licensing reasons. With the pandemic, brands were driven to be more online and to disseminate their shows and collections through the internet more so than they had done before, as live shows weren’t possible. With that came a new set of licensing implications.
You now have to think about the presentation outside of the room, because it's not going to be as momentary.
⎯⎯⎯ Traditionally, certainly pre-internet and social media, the fashion show was more ephemeral. It was like watching a performance with a DJ set in the background—you could play whatever you want in the room, which is still somewhat the case. But as soon as it’s disseminated online, whether it's streaming live or an archive of the whole show, or per look or in one-minute encapsulations, licensing is required to ensure that artists get remunerated for their association with the brand and that moment. Although this mechanism was already in place in terms of sync licensing for the larger brands’ video assets and archived shows, it was driven further forward with the pandemic.
Fashion houses tend to have a budget to license music. Depending on the creative for the show itself, you might have one piece of music which is edited and extended, or a series of tracks which are mixed together in a manner which is part of a storytelling process. You might then license all of those tracks or just one or two of them (depending on budget and permissions), and the online version of the show might exist in a slightly different form in terms of soundtracking than it had for the people who were lucky enough to be in the room to watch the show in person. So all of those scenarios may or may not affect the selection process for the music supervisor.
I guess it would be disappointing to be working with a track for an entire season and then find that the artist doesn't want to license it.
⎯⎯⎯ Thankfully, it hasn’t happened so often! In respect of licensing and other applications for my music supervision, I’ve also been creating original compositions for Dior and Fendi campaign videos. Commissioning original music is often desirable for brands as it permits a more straightforward licensing conversation, but also gives the opportunity for a greater symbiosis between the soundtrack and narrative or movement in the video.
You worked with Jeff Mills to create the Dior Men’s Fall-Winter 2023 soundtrack, which was presented in front of the pyramids at Giza, in Egypt. How did that come about, and how did it work? I see that he was there?
⎯⎯⎯ For Kim and I, having Jeff’s participation was a very special moment, one which harked back to our youth and some of our formative club experiences together. In this case, the show location informed both the music and the collection itself, which was inspired by science fiction and encompassed references to celestial bodies and in turn, how they have influenced ancient and modern civilizations. When I knew that this was the direction and location, Kim and I spoke about the importance of electronic music as a companion piece to the presentation. I remembered that Jeff had long been fascinated by space–that was evident in the way he conceptualized his work, from the pieces that we would be listening to in the nineties up to the present day, and he's been clear in his interest in soundtracking science fiction movies. Although he had never actually been to Egypt, there was a long-standing fascination with it (in 2015, he had scored and presented a multidisciplinary performance at the Louvre in the Egyptian wing). We had the opportunity to amalgamate the music that Kim and I felt appropriate for this particular collection and show with Jeff's fascination for Egypt, and the Egyptian people’s long history of interest in stars and constellations. In terms of process, I made a short playlist of his tracks that spanned the nineties through to the present day, which I felt conceptually might work with the collection and the location. I proposed these to Jeff. After some conversation, he was very generous in accepting the curation of those particular tracks and their sequencing. Ordinarily, I would, with Kim, make the selection, but also personally create the technical mix; however, Jeff is notably such a complete artist, not only as a remarkable producer, but also as a masterful DJ. It’s really part of his enigma as an artist (he started his career in the early 1980s using the DJ name ‘the Wizard’), so we decided it would be a great shame not to have him in the mix for the show!
Are you saying that he mixed live?
⎯⎯⎯ No, although he was up for doing that, there were too many risks and unknowns involved, given the scale of the production and staging the show outside.
It was a huge privilege to have Jeff on board, and he attended the show with his partner Yoko. It was altogether incredibly moving, not least as the end of the catwalk show transitioned almost immediately into a live performance by Max Richter of The Four Seasons.
Let’s talk about the younger designers and brands that you've also done music supervision for, if you feel that there's a difference in your selection and mixing process.
⎯⎯⎯ With some of the brands I've been working with, we share playlists. The designer might share a playlist they've been listening to as they create the collection. I would, in turn, make a separate playlist, sometimes in anticipation of working with them again. If I've already worked with them, I might have an idea of what the sound palette might be for the next collection, or just for them as an individual. I add tracks, quite often new releases as they come out, allocating them to a particular designer without necessarily considering that they might end up being in the show, rather as a placeholder for conversation with them. I then combine the playlists together, with some judicious editing. I listen to all of the tracks and we talk through what we found more resonating in terms of personal taste or how they might be perceived in relation to their collection. Alongside that, we might share pieces of writing, which might then find their way into accompanying text or the soundtrack itself. I've always loved working with text, lyrics or spoken word. For example, the Dior Men’s Spring Summer 2023 collection referenced the artist Duncan Grant and Charleston Farmhouse, where he lived and worked. The set for the show was a recreation of Charleston Farmhouse and Christian Dior's childhood home at Granville, Normandy, with a garden path made up of real flowers between them. I found a recording from Desert Island Discs in 1975 where Grant is talking about arranging his painting life according to the weather and the benefits of longer daylight in the Summer. His voice was overlaid over Aphex Twin’s ‘Avril 14th’ and I followed it with Trustfall's cover of Einstürzende Neubauten’s ‘The Garden’, amongst other tracks. I’ve also used spoken word when soundtracking for other designers—carefully chosen, or commissioned text, edited and placed throughout compositions, which would otherwise be a combination of sound design, atmospherics and music. They're all cohabiting together. That's something I started doing with my NTS shows, where I would create an hour-long mix, spending quite a long time in advance, pre-mixing and editing the music in a way where I'm using words, rearranging or extracting and isolating a particular element of a track and using that as a transition onto another piece of music. It's a way of working which I find very satisfying personally, and that's played out with some of the sound design or music supervision I've been doing for fashion brands as well.
That sounds so time-consuming. I've always wanted to make that type of produced mix, but I'm not so technically adept. Whenever I'm making a live mix and testing transitions, it's fun but also anxiety-inducing when recording.
⎯⎯⎯ For that very reason, I shy away from doing too much live. I'm self-taught, but I've mostly got the technical thing down in terms of editing music. I've been doing that on and off since the early 2000s. At the time, I was using a free version of Pro Tools to make edits purely for playing out when DJing. But my comfort zone is more so the pre-recorded side of things. Something to challenge going forward!
There's something to be said for a highly produced mix. I always go back to this one mix from 2014 that I love, by Seekers International. Apparently, they were previously hip-hop turntablists, so they approached this mix with a technique from one genre, but used chopped-up, looped and layered dancehall and experimental music. Sometimes I think about trying to do something in that realm. But it would include a process of self-teaching, which I would have to find the time for, not being a full-time music person.
⎯⎯⎯ I'm very much approaching my radio mixes with this feeling of the collage, or the cut up, mixing genres. It also goes back to those early t-shirts with Kim, when we were putting genres together visually, rather than sonically. For the NTS shows, I might be mixing an instrumental electronic track with a gothic vocal track over the top, with an ambient piece of music underneath. So there's a way of bringing together all of these disparate influences I’m hugely passionate about!
We met in person, after years of being acquainted on the internet, when you were here for Not Dead Yet Fest around a decade ago. I know that there's a Toronto connection with your photograph appearing on a S.H.I.T. record cover … is it “SHIT” or is it pronounced “S-H-I-T”?
⎯⎯⎯ I just say “SHIT”, to be honest with you. I could be wrong with that!
And you also showed your work recently. Let’s talk about that.
⎯⎯⎯ I was occasionally using photography as a way to document live music—I took pictures as a passion project, more so on the noise scene. I wasn’t doing anything with them. In 2014, I was talking with Luke Younger (aka Helm) one evening. I had a holiday in New York coming up, and he mentioned a hardcore punk festival called New York's Alright. I ended up buying a weekend pass and went to every single gig—matinees, evenings, and after parties. I happened to take a camera with me on that trip. I was in the middle of my art world career, and I found the NY trip totally inspiring and reinvigorating. When I got back to the UK I was going to the Static Shock Festivals, New River Studios, DIY Space for London, Power Lunches etc, and I’ve also returned to NYC and travelled to Oakland, Tokyo, Toronto, Mexico City, Washington DC, and taken photographs of the hardcore punk scenes. I now have a body of work which is around this particular scene and the complexity of it, which was never intended to be a formal project, but now the aspiration is to make a publication at some point. As you mentioned, I recently showed a handful of photographs in a small group show, and I've done that a couple of times previously, but for me, anything I do with this photography has to be affiliated with that scene or at least adjacent. The music has always been really important to me in its own right, but taking pictures somehow ended up being this ongoing informal project for me.
So it's more of a personal endeavour.
⎯⎯⎯ Yes. You mentioned people approaching me to use the pictures—there are also bands such as Koma and Scrap Brain who’ve used my photographs for their physical releases, which is really flattering for me. Going back a little further, noise vocalist Junko used my photography for her Best of CD, and the improvisation group Marginal Consort, which I presented at the South London Gallery in 2013, released a CD of the performance, for which I did the graphic design and photography.
In listening to your approach to photography and knowing that you used to work in the art world, it feels like your thinking comes more from that place. Can you speak on the transition from your previous career to your current one?
⎯⎯⎯ Between 2000 and 2020, I worked at three galleries, all of which were quite different in their approach and what they were showing. My last position was Head of Programme at the South London Gallery, which is a nonprofit institution commissioning new work from contemporary artists. We were primarily commissioning and supporting visual art, in the broadest possible sense, but I would go out of my way to work with sound and put on live music and performance as much as possible. The change for me came about pre-pandemic. Kim was about to start at Fendi, concurrent with his role at Dior menswear. He wanted to create a studio based in London that would support him in his artistic directorship of the two fashion houses, and that could move between them as consultants. I transitioned to the fashion industry slightly self-consciously, if I'm honest, but I found that I could apply my tangential experience, as someone who would nurture and support artists to create a project or a public exhibition. I had this background, which was partly mediating between creative individuals and an institution, which I would reapply with the projects I would do with Fendi, where I commissioned external artists or furniture designers to do a capsule collection for the brand, which would then be presented at Design Miami. In terms of my relationship to the art world, I've been a–I don't like the word curator so much, but I've been a curator or a producer. I've been someone who's been facilitating or working with someone else’s creativity and having an eye on that and having an opinion, but I had not been the named artist or explicitly the creative person in that mix. I therefore now find it really valuable to have not only been a producer, inviter or curator, but also occasionally an artist myself. It's important to have experience from every angle, because you can have empathy for what it takes to be on either side. You can guide someone else through that process more readily, or with more care.
Design Miami is something that Fendi has been doing since 2008, but you worked on it for the past four years with a diverse group of designers, both established and emerging. Speak on your thinking around that.
⎯⎯⎯ The opportunity to curate this project, which is an annual commission, came through my consultancy with Kim's studio–I had this experience of art curation professionally, but this was really the first time that I had to focus my attention on what would be interesting to show from a design perspective. The first invitation I made was to Mabeo, who are based in Botswana near Gaborone. My awareness of them came through research—I was taken by their work and how it was documented. In one series, their furniture is seen directly in the landscape around their studio, sitting in grass for example, as this kind of intervention or punctuation point, be it one which felt completely at home. It was also shown being handled by studio members in the landscape, moved through the environment, or them interacting with the pieces, not necessarily sitting on them, but leaning against them, holding them up, or moving with them. I was taken by this slightly unexpected way of documenting the furniture. Their function was evident, but also these pieces were in motion and shown slightly in contrast to their purpose. I emailed Peter Mabeo, and we had an almost instantaneous rapport, which led to what was, for me, a very inspiring collaborative moment. We talked about Mabeo's relationship with artisans who are based across Botswana. For this particular project, they collaborated with people who had expertise across various disciplines, whether it was weaving or working with clay. They would go on these road trips, which might take many hours, sometimes overnight. Often, the calls I would have with them would be on WhatsApp, and they would be travelling, stopping somewhere on their journey to an artisan in Botswana. Images of these trips found their way into a publication, which I designed for Fendi with them, which was then distributed during Design Miami in December 2021. Kompa, the title of the collection, originated from Mabeo’s most senior (in age) craftsperson, meaning something that is complete. Peter, his colleague Beullah, and I are still regularly in touch–I have a great deal of respect for them, and we are somehow always together! I did three further iterations of Design Miami. To speak to the breadth of those collaborations, the third instance was with Bless in 2023, an interdisciplinary studio based between Paris and Berlin, founded by Desiree Heiss and Ines Kaag. They first came to public prominence when they collaborated with Martin Margiela on his Fall ’97 show, for which some models wore recycled fur wigs by Bless. The wigs officially marked the start of Bless’ numbering system, N°00, the first in their sequentially titled projects. Desiree and Ines had taken out an advertisement in i-D magazine in 1996, with images of people wearing their wigs, which is where Margiela first saw them, and coincidentally, within a year of the period I did work experience at the magazine, under Scott King, in 1995.
Bless has stayed really consistent.
⎯⎯⎯ I found it both very appropriate and perhaps slightly provocative that Bless and Fendi might collaborate. Ines’ father was a furrier, and so she grew up with this as a family industry as such. And Fendi itself is a fashion house which had been born on fur. Bless being conceptual and research-driven, we were very keen to be in conversation with the couture house, quite literally, particularly one so associated with this as a materiality.
Who also does incredible technical things with fur.
⎯⎯⎯ Yes. They found a commonality, particularly with the artisanal nature of what Fendi does. They looked at Fendi both for its historic visibility as a family business, but importantly also they wanted to look behind the scenes (the project was titled Backfrontal), meaning the many people who've worked for Fendi for decades. They interviewed members of staff across administration, the Ateliers, as well as Sylvia and Delfina Fendi, both of whom have artistic director roles at the house. These two examples, the projects with Mabeo and Bless, speak to my approach, given the opportunity to invite an external designer to collaborate with Fendi for Design Miami.
It was a very special season for Kim, and I imagine everyone who works on his team, with it being his final show at Dior Men’s and receiving the Legion d’Honneur. I have to ask what's next for you and the studio.
⎯⎯⎯ I can speak about some of what’s been happening since and what’s next for me! I’ve since scored the soundtrack for Lueder’s AW25 show, as well as helping with the music for GmbH’s show, both of which were presented as part of Berlin Fashion Week in February. Then, at the beginning of March, I collaborated with the designer Róisín Pierce for the third time. Róisín is an Irish designer who shows during Paris Fashion Week. The soundtrack included extracts of Sylvia Plath’s Death & Co. and Vladimir Nabokov’s writing on Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, read by Róisín herself, intermittently in lyrical conversation with extracts of songs, including an Irish traditional sung by her mother, Angie, with whom she works very closely. Alongside these elements, there were tracks by NIN, Hanne Lippard, Scott Walker and Nina Simone amongst others.
I'm also working on a personal sound/music project. Although, as already mentioned, I’ve scored videos for brands such as Dior and Fendi, this is my first time creating original composition as a solo artist as such. It’s a multi-track release which might have a limited physical home, a USB or a CD. It’s a collaboration with a London-based jewellery studio who have an artist series which consists of commissioned works that sit outside of commercial interest. I’m pushing myself to do something I've not really done before.
Maybe it's about time.
⎯⎯⎯ I think so! Aside from that, I'll be working on my next NTS show.
I imagine your collaborations with Kim, as you've known each other and worked together for such a long time, whatever happens next, I imagine that those probably won't be ending anytime soon.
⎯⎯⎯ Yeah–generally very excited to see what comes in the future!
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