The Chair subverts the traditional rush chair, a small wooden seat traditionally used to teach children how to eat at a low table. In this reinterpretation, the woven enea is replaced with rusted concertina wire, transforming an object of comfort and learning into one of hostility and pain.

This piece speaks to the distortion of safety, the way spaces and objects meant for nurture can be corrupted into sources of suffering. The sharp, corroded wire contrasts violently against the familiar wooden frame, creating an unsettling contradiction: a chair that invites, yet repels; a place meant for growth, yet filled with danger.

Fear is deeply embedded in this transformation. The act of sitting, once instinctive, becomes an impossible choice—mirroring the experience of those who, due to circumstances beyond their control, find themselves in hostile environments where even the most basic human needs, like rest and nourishment, are fraught with risk. The Chair questions the foundations of security and asks: What happens when what was meant to support us becomes the very thing that wounds us?