There’s a game of broken telephone happening in Joy Walker’s art. It starts with a painting whispering in a drawing’s ear the descriptions of a paint stroke. Then the drawing tells a sculpture, which tells a screen print. Finally, the screen print takes great pains to tell a textile what a paint stroke is: a length of colour, patchy in places, and frayed at the ends. Walker’s work acts as a translator from one medium to another, allowing things to get lost in translation with the knowledge that within that process, something is added as well.
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