People, plants, languages, beliefs. Some come of their own accord. Others are forced, deported, torn away. Their paths cross, clash and intertwine. Something takes root, changing its language, form or name.

Imported into colonised island territories, the hibiscus eventually became part of the landscape, to the point of becoming one of its emblems. From one island to the next, the same flower forms a backdrop: exotic, lush, desirable. Behind the postcard image, the uniqueness of individual histories and struggles fades away. Shaped by the colonial gaze and subsequently commodified by the tourism industry, this imagery transforms the island into an artificial paradise, offered up to desire and consumption.

A flower may eventually become an image. An image may eventually become a landscape.

In three works from the series In the Shadow of the Hibiscus, oversized flowers are covered in thousands of rhinestones. They glitter, seduce, dazzle and draw the eye, only to redirect it elsewhere.…