Configurations of objects found on the premises acknowledge a collaborative attempt: “Let’s take everything from in here, and put it in there”. The open holdings that house these materials are intended to ground and contain the unfurling nature of gathering, arranging, configuring, unhiding, elevating, transmuting and saving – within the walls of something structural, if only for a short while.

Objects appear that have been forgotten about: an old bicycle seat, an old inner tube, a favorite piece of wood that was kept aside in the cellar – a piece of cask that the brewery once sent when they were out of kindling for the fire. The vases that were whispering together by that same fire, and how they were banished to the back office, an old boy cheekily offering to take them away, because he knew their value; how they’ve returned now, offsetting the red filigree of the wallpaper, the red gloss ceiling shifting in the light.

The movement of all framed images from The Royal George’s bar to a designated exhibition space, and their subsequent mounting against one another, facing away, is another attempt to draw attention to the economy of the walls of the pub – itself another temporary ‘container’.

There are multiple graveyards of gatherings past, a box of dart flights divorced from their shoddy bodies, birthday candles scattered in a cup, the balloon from the poster slipped from a drunken hand to fix upon the ceiling and then stashed behind the bar once the helium expired. Now, tucked in like the rest. Poker chips which the old boys used to play with until dawn broke outside, a golf ball from the golfing trips they once did together, a glass where pens are stored, marred with blobby biro-stains.

Outside, in the garden, a final temporary home: a birdhouse – fabricated using an ice bucket from inside, and mesh security plastic, a material often used in reinforced windows industrially – will serve the birds of the locale for the duration of the show.