She’s a Sweetie borrows from the fairytale narrative to explore how poverty and patriarchy intertwine.

The work conjures thoughts of childhood and homeliness, of commodity and ownership, of violence and cannibalism.

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With its roots firmly entangled with the tradition of working-class woman as story-teller, there is a sense of magic and play in the work, an unstable beauty that appears to be melting away before your very eyes; like wandering through a dark and twisted Alice’s Wonderland. We experience all the sickly-sweet wonder of the contemporary Disney fairy-tale as we rejoice in the sparkling sugar, the light pouring into and reflecting off each sculpture, the smell of childhood and candy-floss in the air. But the longer we stay the more we witness the violence in the work, it come in waves, like the nausea after a sweetie binge; this is when the sinister shapes of folklore and old wives tales take hold. And we realise that, here, we will not find our happily ever after.