Take Ten was a collaborative, process-led exhibition I created with artist Lorna Kerr, shown at Sink Space in The Stow Building, Glasgow. The title was taken from the phrase “take ten”—a reference to the idea of taking time out to reset, play, and immerse ourselves in something that feels both relaxing and creatively expansive. Over the course of a week, we worked together in the gallery space to produce a series of experimental works, documenting the entire process and presenting the outcome, alongside a film, as an evolving installation.

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We approached the space not as a static exhibition site, but as a live, open-ended studio—one where we could test ideas, make instinctively, and respond directly to the room and to each other. Making became the central experience. The walls and floor bore the marks of that time: painted patches, unfinished sketches, scattered materials, reworked pieces. It was important to us that the process of creation remained visible, and that visitors could feel they were stepping into an active environment rather than viewing a closed-off, finalised exhibition.

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Throughout the week, we worked with and around selected pieces from my earlier Objects of Play series—modular, handmade objects created from cardboard, tape, foam, and other low-tech materials. Brightly coloured and inspired by children’s television aesthetics like In the Night Garden or The Hoobs, these objects acted as building blocks, prompts, and characters within the space. They were arranged, stacked, rearranged and occasionally dismantled—responding to the energy of the room. Their presence brought a sense of lightness and tactility to the show, inviting both us and the audience to think about making as a form of play, storytelling, and transformation.

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We filmed the entire week, capturing moments of exploration, indecision, and intuitive breakthroughs. The final film was looped within the exhibition, acting as a quiet witness to the process—a parallel artwork in its own right. It offered an alternate lens for understanding what visitors saw around them, making the installation feel part documentary, part playground, part evolving world.

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This way of working was deeply influenced by artists who have treated the gallery as a live site of creation—people like Eva Hesse, whose material experiments embraced fragility and incompletion, and Ernesto Neto, whose immersive installations encourage touch and bodily experience. The spirit of Allan Kaprow’s environments was also something we kept in mind: the idea that an artwork can be an unfolding situation rather than a static object.

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For me, Take Ten was a reminder of the value of time, space, and collaboration. It was about slowing down, letting go of pressure, and making room for spontaneity. The interactive nature of the space encouraged visitors to step into that rhythm too—to pause, play, rearrange, reflect. In the end, it felt like we had built a small, temporary world: one that welcomed unfinished thoughts, tactile exploration, and the joyful, messy process of making together.

on themes of accessibility, storytelling, and a re-imagining of the familiar landscapes of Scotland. 

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