Laila: We first met during our BAs at Chelsea College of Art. At that time, we weren’t collaborating; we were just always around each other. It wasn’t until a year after graduating that we started working together.
Louis: Yeah, we lived together and spent a lot of time hanging out, constantly discussing each other's work and references. Oddly enough, the collaboration began when we were no longer sharing a physical space. We missed the conversations we used to have about our work and started sending each other images and photographs we thought the other would appreciate.
Initially, it didn’t even feel like a formal collaboration—it was more like an ongoing exchange. Over time, though, the sheer number of images we were sharing made us realize there was something worth exploring together. That’s when we began thinking about how to work with these images collectively.
Laila: It was a series of early digital prints onto Dibond, an aluminium and plastic composite material. These were digitally manipulated images, though not quite collages in the traditional sense.
Louis: The first project was a series of twelve found images printed semi-transparently and placed side by side on a wall. It felt like a visual essay of sorts—super simple in its relationship to found imagery. Over time, our approach to images has become more complex and tactile. For example, our drawings show how this process has evolved; they still use found images but involve a more painstaking and slow engagement with the material.
Laila: It depends. For physical publications like magazines, we scan and archive images on our laptops, building a collection to reference and respond to in works like our Spread series. The drawings, however, are predominantly sourced online. That process is more unpredictable—sometimes we chance upon something to screenshot, while other times we actively search. The internet’s unpredictability ensures you’re never quite sure when you’ll find something exciting.
Louis: Our relationship with online images is more casual compared to those from print sources. We don’t meticulously archive their provenance because they’re often so far removed from their original context. They’ve passed through countless hands. That’s part of why we enjoy working with them—taking these ephemeral, fast-moving images and dramatically slowing down their production and reception.
Laila: Definitely. Through the various processes we use—scanning, drawing, layering—we destabilize the image. It becomes less readable, less immediate. We like to think this gives the image a new kind of agency, forcing viewers to spend more time with it.
Louis: By unmooring the images from their original contexts, we’re setting them free in a way. Many are so recognisably “of the internet” that it feels liberating to give them a more ambiguous presence.
Louis: There’s an interesting relationship between text and image, especially when considering memetic culture. A lot of the text we use is directive, instructive—literally telling the viewer how to consume the image.
Laila: Text often mirrors the way we engage with images on social media, where captions are almost inseparable from the visuals. It reflects a mode of image-sharing and communication that feels immediate and passive. But in the context of our work, overlaying text on an image introduces a layer of control and intentionality, guiding how the viewer navigates and reads the piece.
Laila: The space itself informed those elements. It had exposed brick and wiring, almost as if it had been turned inside out. The benches and handrails felt like natural extensions of that—a nod to public, hostile architecture.
Louis: The benches, for instance, suggest a moment of pause, but they’re deliberately uncomfortable—you can’t linger for long. The handrails, while offering support, also create distance and boundaries from the works. These elements mirror the push and pull dynamic we aim for in our drawings, where the images both invite and resist immediate consumption.
Louis: The drawings are relatively new, and the Goldsmiths show pushed them further than we imagined. One large piece in the show, over three meters long, housed multiple images in one frame. It felt simultaneously oppressive and fascinating, with this eerie sense of figures staring back at the viewer. We’re eager to keep exploring that scale and complexity.
Laila: There’s also potential in continuing to create specific environments for the works—installations that shape how they’re encountered. The Goldsmiths show felt like the beginning of many new ideas, and we’re excited to build on that momentum.
Laila: Slowing down.
Louis: Absolutely. The show was all about encouraging a slower, more deliberate engagement with images—resisting the rapid, fleeting interactions we’re used to.
Laila: It’s about creating a space where viewers can spend time with something, cultivating a sense of longing and desire that doesn’t exist in immediate consumption.