LUCY McLAUCHLAN

Raising the Flag (2023)

The River Thames shall breach it’s banks into the heart of London, as the consequences of our inevitable climate crisis hits. As the South banks submerge, the Queen Elizabeth Roof Garden, at a higher point remains. These flags set to remind us, hinting to the change that is here already.

10 flags, collaged and stitched from reclaimed fabrics. Installed for the Southbank’s Planet Summer intervention alongside Dear Earth exhibited at the Hayward Gallery. Located at the Queen Elizabeth Roof Gardens, commissioned by Southbank Centre, 2023.

Xylella Fastidiosa (2015)

In 2015 my annual visit to Studiocromie in Grottaglie was different, all the olive trees were dying due to the bacteria Xylella Fastidiosa. The century old olive groves had become part of the landscape I’d taken for granted. The theme for that year’s group show was 'Castastrofe' - apt for my contribution where I took myself into the fields to take a last look and paint amongst these beautiful trees.

Todo es Posible (2010)

The iconic Birmingham Central Library built in 1974 was given it’s final call with a demolition date of 2016. This modernist build by John Madin (the architect behind much of Birmingham’s Brutalism) had more to offer to the city but as ever, short sighted decisions were set against the supporters who tirelessly campaigned to save it even with the recommendations by Historic England for listed status. In 2011 the government made it immune from protected status for five years, preventing any hope of saving it - ultimately allowing it to fall into disrepair.

I grew up with this library, a regular weekend spot inside and out - its subterranean car park skateboarders and graffiti went uninterupted. The classic 70’s interior and dramatic concrete inverted ziggurat exterior. I spoke to John Madin a few times about the library - how council budget cuts meant it was never finished to his high spec, which perhaps contributed to its demise. He also never saw it as Brutalist architecture. But it was loved.

In 2010 EC-arts gave me the chance to paint it, without hesitation I set upon my own personal support of the campaign - with nesting birds holding up the flag of encouragment - ‘todo es posible’.
The Wildlife & Countryside Act 1981 protects nesting birds, making it illegal to intentionally or recklessly cut down or create a disturbance to nesting birds. This concrete nest could’ve housed and nurtured so much more if vision and imagination had been allowed to take hold. If those with the power could get behind that anything is possible, instead of curtailing to the status quo of the homogenised cityscape.

Peaceful Protest (2009)

April 2009, in the wake of the death of Ian Tomlinson during the G-20 Summit protests I painted these ex-Police riot shields, to stand against State brutality in all its forms. Ian Tomlinson was just trying to make his way home through the police and kettled protestors.

These protests were an important voice against topical issues - anger at the bankers' bonuses during the financial crisis, the continued Global War on Terrorism and climate change concerns. Police used force to detain protesters as part of Operation Glencoe - the violent force Ian Tomlinson lamentably received.

Peaceful protest is a right, protected by the European Convention on Human Rights. An individual's right to freedom of expression and assembly are protected by Articles 10 and 11. Together they safeguard the right to peaceful protest. This legal right only applies to peaceful demonstrations and does not extend to ‘any acts of violence or damage caused during a protest’. But this goes (or should go) both ways.

Fading Faces (2024)

These plates were made before The Fade. Hand thrown from a lump of clay I was experimenting with the unknown as it emerges faded from the kiln and embracing the 3 main principles of Wabi-Sabi: imperfection, transience, and naturalness.

Little did I know I’d have to fully embrace these in my own life as the year came to a halt just as it had got started and The Fade began. More than half of 2024 was spent incapacitated, I launched an inner resistance campaign. The plates were wobbly, the face blurry, the image fading away - everything I felt, all resonating with my own personal fight against The Fade.

The slow fade comes as time moves on and over us
Almost unnoticeable, until it isn’t

A lump of earth can be transformed into something useful
That may or may not be beautiful

Both are held ransom to a fire that burns

As the body clashes with time, superseding our gradual decline
The kiln’s intensity melts the painted surface away, instantly

The face slowly fades away