In Kennel Cough, Cloutman distils this idea of off-kilter domesticity to a sharp point. Her
images are small, some no bigger than 13 by 8.5cm. At first glance, they are filled with
quotidian activities. Women take baths and couples complete crosswords. But look for
longer and a strong sense of disquiet creeps in. These are not contented or uncomplicated
moments of repose but glimpses into fraught terrain, riven with tensions and power
asymmetries. Figures remain locked into intense, mutual looks, or else gaze out with
heavy-lidded eyes beyond the edges of the image. Some were modelled on photos from a
series of books about 1970s doll’s houses. Others exist in an imagined instance of
absurdity: a man running away from his trousers, a pair of houses observed through a
window morphing into stocky human faces.
- Excerpt from an essay written by Rosalind Jana
7th - 13th November 2022