Freeland Fellowship
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APRIL & MAY 2026
Time is flying. Spring has exploded and summer is here. It’s a pattern I recognise and yet still find surprising every year.
Too many things have happened at the University to fully regale, but I feel far more accustomed to its ebbs and flows now. Something I wasn’t expecting was the rhythm of the academic timeline. I haven’t been in an institutional educational space for a long time, and I’d forgotten the intensity of semesters, deadlines and term breaks. I realise now how much this shapes the fellowship.
There have been weeks where the University has been unbelievably busy: students needing help, technicians and tutors stretched thin, deadlines everywhere. Then, almost overnight, the building shifts into a kind of surreal quietness. As the Fellow, I get to witness the breathing of this community, the way it pulses and contracts.
All the other fellows from Dundee, Aberdeen, Cardiff, Falmouth, Brighton, Birmingham and Belfast visited Bath Spa for a get together with tutors and academics. It was super nice to meet everyone and useful to get a snapshot of how different practices might unfold over the fellowship. We did a rapid-fire talk about our practice and pedagogy and sweet screen printing workshop. I always appreciate doing something practical in these sort of scenarios.
Locally, I’ve been visiting more institutions around Bath. I went to the Herschel Museum, dedicated to William and Caroline Herschel and their discoveries of Uranus and comets. I also visited the Museum of Bath at Work, which feels like a compression of archival and architectural histories folded surprisingly into a old indoor tennis court. I attended the opening of a Glen Brown exhibition at No.1 Royal Crescent, revisited the Holburne, and even managed to preview parts of Fringe Arts Bath.
I feel I have become more ingrained and have managed to spend time with a wide breadth of the student cohort in various supporting roles. Ideas are bubbling for workshops that I want to test out, and I am still managing to skill up across the various workshops, although I realise that repetition is the key to learning, so I have been revisiting various techniques.
The refined list currently stands at: embossing, screen printing, making natural pigments, a bit of metalwork, tufting, slip casting, digital print processes, 3D printing (including learning Rhino), using the recycled plastic extruder, growing plants, projection mapping and lathing (although I should definitely do more of that!). There is still more I want to test out and, soon, I will start refining things down, but for the moment I will carry on with this slightly hectic self-led education.
Due to this slightly chaotic (self-chosen) way of working, my ideas are bouncing around in lots of different directions. I have been diving into Roman cults, the history of the cymbal, amphoras, rubbish dumps, sites of construction, growing plants to (maybe) use within a sculpture, and of course the familiar fascinations with recycled materials, alchemy, destruction, temporary works and sustainability.
I am trying to give myself some time to evaluate the topics that I keep coming back to, to see if I can distil my practice into a succinct narrative. But I think this is neither an easy task nor completely essential for now. As an old tutor once said, “Let pleasure be your guide,” and that is what I am trying to do.
PAST
Outside of the fellowship, I recently completed an external project with Left Handed Giant and Spike Island, producing a beer label featuring imagery from previous works relating to Alewives and alestaffs. It feels like a wonderfully poignant outcome after an entire body of work made around brewing history.
More info here: jolathwood.co.uk/artworks/spike-island-x-lhg/
FUTURE
Alongside all of this, I’ve been developing a new work with curator Marianne Mulvey for an event hosted by WITTA at Spike Island. We’ve been thinking about how things can be talked into existence and are applying this idea to a text which facilitates writing an artwork into existence.
For a while I’ve been considering how the reuse of timber functions within my art practice. There is normally a pile of lumber in my studio which I’ve worked with repeatedly over the years. Many pieces are now exhausted: shortened lengths, drilled holes, cracks and layers of old labels. It feel right to purge myself of them but doesn’t feel right to simply burn them without purpose.
A while back, I voiced the idea of burning them and using them as fuel in a wood-powered ceramic kiln transferring their stored energy into another material. This has partly led me into learning slip casting, although I’m not sure it matters whether I make the ceramics themselves or other do. I’m more interested in the transformation itself: one material exhausting itself so another can emerge.
Marianne and I have been writing around this process and imagining what conditions are needed for it to exist. That writing has now become a new work, which will be presented on the 27th June at WAWAW / Writing Art Writing Art Writing: When Language Becomes Material.
More info here: witta.org/news/wawaw-writing-art-writing-art-writing/
Soundtrack - Akira (1988) movie soundtrack
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MARCH 2026
Short form/ a summary
I dance across the workshops, selecting apparatus that I haven’t used before. Learning though making not looking or talking,. Problems will arise that you can’t theorise. The privilege of workshops with wonderful technicians with specialist knowledge.
Long form / Freeform
I am delighted to receive this amazing opportunity for the next year, and I feel both humbled and overwhelmed by the freedom and possibility of spending time back in art school, surrounded by its nostalgic smells, messy works, failures, successes, and, above all, the space for experimentation.
My time here will be split between the studio, skilling up in the amazing workshops and pedagogy. I want to learn more about the holistic ecosystem of the art school, and hope to help students better understand the art world beyond the institution. I have coined my approach to this time as: 'Preparing to become invisible, a deep dive into circle systems, sustainability, and transformation.'
I have spent these first few weeks inducting myself into the workshops and making without the pressure of worrying about what it means or where it will lead. My current approach is to let each induction feed the next. I am trying to develop new skills, so I am purposely focusing on technologies and materials that I haven’t really worked with since I was at Brighton University in 2006, even though I know I will inevitably return to the comfort of the wood and sculpture workshops.
First up was a simple exercise to understand embossing, a perfect medium to explore the concept of the invisible. Searching for words that weren’t too obvious, I settled on 'abracadabra.' Associated, for me, with magic tricks, and for a younger generation, with Lady Gaga (!), it felt like a good way forward. It was an extra delight to discover through further research that the etymology of the word dates back to 2nd-century Roman origins, linked to an amulet for curing fevers. This resulted in a more complete artwork than originally planned, but that is fine. I am sure this insignia will resurface throughout my time here.
I did a slip-casting induction and became fascinated by plaster discs that form when students accidentally mix too much plaster. These delightful forms, squashed between two sheets of toughened glass, offer a pristinely smooth canvas. I took one back to the studio.
On a rainy day, I missed my correct train and instead travelled straight to the centre of Bath. On a whim, I visited the Roman Baths. As a Bristolian, I remember going there as a child, but recall little detail. I was beyond delighted when I discovered I could visit for free with my new status as a Research Fellow. I got an audio guide and, somewhat nerdily, listened to every part of the tour. I learned a new word, ‘penannular’, used to describe a form with a small break in its circumference. Somehow, an almost complete ring feels more fitting than the perfection of a whole circle. I wished the spa was still a spa, not a museum. I accept that Roman history will infiltrate my ideas (it is literally in the water) especially given the connection to 'abracadabra.'
I was inducted on a recycled plastic hopper and reformer, an odd-looking machine that chomps and shreds used plastic into flakes, which are then heated and extruded into new, multicoloured swirling forms. A selection of simple moulds was available, but I used this opportunity to challenge myself to make my own. The mould needed to be strong and heat-resistant, so I also undertook an induction in the metal workshop. I was gifted some aluminium and used various tools to make an expanded mould held together with bolts. I decided to be practical and designed a simple extruded 'J' shape that I can repurpose as a hanging system to hold the aforementioned plaster discs on the wall.
I took part in a natural ink-making workshop and expanded my understanding of pigment-making beyond the familiar black of oak gall ink. I have always wanted to learn about egg tempera, and this workshop planted some ideas.
I learned how to use a wood lathe with the aim of making a pattern form for my first slip cast.
I made sketches of the skips in the university yard. I learned that Bath’s recycling centre is just a 15-minute walk from campus, and I think I should visit in the future, as it will apparently be expanding this year.
I also began to evaluate what interests me as an artist through a process developed by LOW PROFILE called the 'Holding Pen’ , a way for artists to organise their ideas and better understand what motivates them. I have been thinking a lot about the well-known idea that the essence of sculpture is a method of subtraction or addition. From there, I started reflecting on how I respond to sites, and realised that the ones I am most drawn to align with this sculptural thinking, sites of addition, like construction sites, and sites of subtraction, like mines. Industrial spaces and processes, with scale. The recycling centre seems, in some way, to hold both addition and extraction.
These seeds of ideas are growing, but it feels sporadic at the moment. I am also still nurturing some older works to be presented in new forms next month. This is probably enough insight for now.
Soundtrack - Modeselektor: DJ-Kicks album -
PRE-AMBLE
In late 2025, I applied for the Freelands Studio Fellowship at Bath Spa University (2026–27). Weary of the standard presentation format, I chose instead to write the Locksbrook campus a love letter
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A love letter to Bath Spa University.