ELLIOT FOX
LAND SURVEY (EN GENNICK THE METEOROPATH)
SLADE SCHOOL OF FINE ART ∙ JUNE 2026 ∙ LONDON
This presentation explores the interrelationships that underpin humans' innate connection to systems of corporate and capitalist control, examined through the lens of technology, industrialisation and cultural evolution within the landscape. Land Survey (2026) presents a psychogeographical study of three locations, all situated along an east-west axis across the United Kingdom: Ness Point (Lowestoft, Suffolk), a renewable energy industry hub; Fuse Energy headquarters (Canary Wharf, London); and the GEL Energy lithium extraction facility (United Downs, Cornwall). Embedded within the moving image work is a narrative text from artist and writer Kaius Owen.
At designated intervals throughout the video, Extractor (2026) recirculates the air within the space, establishing a haptic relationship between the audience, the environment and the surrounding works. Alongside, the Meteoropathy series (2026) comprises three live-streamed animations, reacting to real time GPS weather data from each of the locations featured within Land Survey. The animations protagonist, En Gennick, takes the form of a fictional energy company mascot, whose emotional state is dependent on the prevailing weather conditions. Finally, a scroll of risograph printed image data is expelled from the room's preexisting ventilation system, refracted and distorted through a pair of Fresnel viewing lenses, those typically used to concentrate sunlight within solar energy power.
Extract from embedded narrative text created by Kaius Owen for ‘Land Survey’ moving image work:
Entry 08
The building was of course identical, the same concrete and cladding, the same cliff face geometries. But I felt total alienation - no feeling of familiarity, though I knew and remembered my last visit, I even wrote it down. I stood and listened to the circular scattering generated by the styrofoam leaves and coffee cups caught in a miniature whirlwind - a microclimate confined to the disabled parking bay.
I just hovered, trying to figure out what was different, analysing the undulating blue of the plastic panels that adorned that concrete, my vision blurred and the waves lapped rhythmically. Concrete, composite and coastline. I was desperate for a coffee.
From memory, two potted evergreens should have guarded the doorway, but I managed to walk around the entire building without any site of the plants, or any kind of entrance, just concrete and cladding. I must have made an error. I looked up to see the gulls circling. I went for a second loop and located some plants (actually fake plastic conifers this time) and between them, the same concrete wall that circled the rest of the office. No door. Feeling increasingly confused I checked my watch, luckily I still had twenty minutes until the scheduled meeting. I made another loop and came across two more potted plants, both dead, but the rotating glass door was there, bang in the middle. I went inside and headed straight for the coffee machine.
Epilogue
Such a long time since somebody came out underdressed, tricked by the brilliant light of pre-summer. Gooseflesh on the back of arms and a self soothing rub. Such a long time.
He’s not sure what made up his mind, countless tiny decisions. Making coffee in that old cafetier instead of from the pods, signing off a meeting and allowing himself to sit in silence, without looking, or doing, without distraction for a whole ten minutes, he was even reading a book, one that fits in your pocket, the pages yellowed and rippled from some unknown liquid. A book about a man on a voyage to catch a great fish after many days with no luck. It’s an ordeal. The second half of the book is missing.
He goes outside for a walk.
He passes a hulking rock, sheer face against the waves. Angular. Overgrown with salt blasted shrubbery, he sits and admires the view. Lichen and moss cushion him. He peels an orange and holds it upright, the sun shines through the flesh and his hands glow orange. He feels restless. The horizon is a field of spinning blades..
The wind sings in shallow cries. He wishes he knew what it was saying.
The weeks go by and he starts venturing out more, forgetting all about his meetings. He wonders different paths, around satellites of ancient rock and metal. Desire lines form. Mostly they lead to the hollow hulk by the sea. Where he sits and watches the undulations of the ocean.
One day he sits somewhere new. There are two plant pots and he sits between them resting his back against the ivy, nestling in as deep as he can, allowing the greenery to enclose around his vision until all is shadow and verdant light. Sharp pain as he falls back through the ivy, his head hitting solid ground. Dazed, he scrambles up. Now irritated by the itching ivy and throbbing head. He’s revealed a maw, a dark entrance to a passage that the ivy had been hiding. He ventures in.
It is dark but his eyes adjust. Rotting desks. A water cooler filled with algae. A coffee machine untouched for decades. Maybe longer. Despite the dereliction, everything thrums with an ancient energy. He’s drawn toward one small corner of the room, where light shines in from a long smashed window. Illuminated, a pile of bones, poised as if watching the sea.
ELLIOT FOX