A slender young woman falls backwards, blown off her feet by a bomb. Frozen in time, her bare legs stick up, her hands grasping the air. Her face is covered by a page from a newspaper. People approach to look at her, bending down to study the folds of her dress, the immature curve of her thigh, her neat toes, splayed in surprise.

The woman is, it turns out, a sculpture, made by the Irish artist F.E. McWilliam in 1974. In this bronze figure’s awkwardly graceful near-death contortions, whole histories of pain, death, sex and visual pleasure have been condensed.

Daniel Jewesbury is an artist, writer and curator. Recurring themes in his work include the relationship between people and the places they inhabit; the construction and nature of subjectivity and the relationship between biography and memory; the perpetual regeneration of the contemporary city, the contests and conflicts that this produces, and, not least, the politics of representation itself.

www.danieljewesbury.org