Nestled in a terrain more familiar with cows than people sits a farm, an archive, a collection of buildings with ambiguous use. Upon arriving, two capture a fleeting moment of attention, drawing our eyes through their axial alignment. The first, the work of architect Hugh Strange, acts as our ‘entry’, sitting snug within a historic façade. The other, Stephen Taylor’s whimsical ‘hay barn’ sitting above us, holding station, surveying the landscape it commands. Despite their differences, there appeared to be a connection, a feeling that they are somehow akin.

Invited to map the site, to try and understand the relationship between these points in space, this connection was somehow inescapable to us, proving enchanting, yet tricky to unpack. Unknowing what this connection might be, rulers emerged, measures were taken, and pages were marked. A meticulous process, an exercise that initially lacked a conceptual point. However, a deus ex machina presented, uncovering the evasive connection. Suddenly, we could see structures in structures, buildings in buildings, uses in uses. Within both, a doubling emerged, each housing a construction within its external mass. The hidden tie had sprung.

The process of drawing, of mark making, of painstakingly recording the details we encounter became our devices of clarity. In inviting an opportunity to sit back, to map what we measured rather than what we thought we saw, a moment of discovery presented. The exercise, for us, unravelled in an unexpected way. Drawing extended upon representation, encouraging our unexpected encounter.