Placenta is a luminous slab in which organic, plastic and electrical materials are bound together. Inside a rectangular frame built to the golden ratio, melted fructose is poured and left to find its own irregular edge; as the slab solidifies, the components of a neon circuit are set into it. A chemical reaction between the fructose and the f400 epoxy resin keeps the surface unstable. It goes on changing shape and colour, responding on its own to humidity and sunlight. The precariousness is the point: a balance held, and never settled, between living matter and the artificial.
The title is precise, not poetic. A placenta is not an image but a function: the membrane that lets two distinct biologies share a metabolism without merging, passing nutrients, oxygen and signals between mother and fetus. The work is named for that interface. Its two materials are fructose, the simple sugar biology metabolises with ease, and epoxy resin, the polymer biology cannot metabolise at all; poured together they enter a reaction neither was designed to undergo: the sugar caramelises in the heat of the curing resin, the resin's cure is altered by the sugar, and both become something neither was. The slab is that placental exchange, between two materialities that should not interact, made permanent.
The frame is there to be contradicted. The golden-ratio rectangle entered art history as the proportional figure of natural beauty, the promise of harmony; pouring an irregular, self-determining chemical reaction into it stages a small refusal: the form of harmony cannot govern the matter inside it. The proportion is structural, external, imposed; the reality is messy, internal, biological. The frame does not order the slab; the slab's own reaction overruns the frame. Harmony is offered exactly so that it can be seen to fail.
The neon is the third term. Embedded in the slab, the fluorescent tube is not decoration but the electrical register that joins the organic and the synthetic into a small ecology: fructose, biology's energy currency; epoxy, industry's bonding agent; electricity, the input that makes any of it visible. The slab does not reflect an outside light; it contains its own. And it lights only itself, because a placenta does not illuminate the room. It sustains one specific exchange and stays invisible to everyone outside it. Placenta is a self-contained metabolic event; the gallery around it is incidental.
"Its instability is managed and controlled. The tension between the claimed instability of the chemical process and the stasis of exhibition is unresolved."
Critical review, 2026
The instability is not managed; it is simply slow. In the first weeks the fructose is amber and translucent; over months it darkens toward caramel, crystalline structures forming inside the resin where moisture has migrated; by the second year the slab has the colour of fossil amber and the internal pattern of a cracked geological layer. The piece now in storage is materially a different object from the one photographed at the opening. The change is real. It just happens across the time the gallery does not exhibit. The work is its own slow film, watched by no one.