Placed in the centre of the garden with a steady stream of viewers circling, commenting and asking questions the Trow is looking more like an art installation than a humble boat-building project.
Trow Art, I should explain, investigates the artist’s reasons for eschewing advice that others have gleaned from hard-learnt lessons, for diving, blind-fold, into the deep end where his rudimentary skills and scant experience provide less than adequate buoyancy. For taking snap decisions and sticking to them even when evidence of their shaky foundations is abundant. For continually failing to measure more than once and for never putting tools back in the same place twice. Trow Art also looks at the disappearance of pencils, notebooks and tape measures and the savage dances of death that their loss provokes.
As the work progresses we witness the transformation of the artist, once smooth browed he now has an array of over-developed muscles rippling across his forehead, a black cloud is discernible over his head and he scares the unwary with spontaneous out-pourings of fierce, firecracker words.
Trow Art asks the viewer to explore the forms of pipe dreams and reflect on symbols of freedom in the 21st century, raising questions about the sanity of those who give priority to their cause even over family, health and money and the place of such individuals in society.
Trow Art is an installation that examines the human spirit caught between its dreams and its abilities and forced to come to terms with its nature.