This exhibition, is titled ‘One, Two, Three, Four’ (for Sejersen’s interest in rhythm, rules and the space beyond them) comprises of still-life compositions – a handful of pearls placed painstakingly in the too-small holes of a large piece of foam, or a cluster of candles flickering in the sound waves of a percussive track – and of studies of the body, or more specifically, of the many ways it can accidentally become damaged in the course of a day. Elsewhere, there’s a sunrise familiar from his own upbringing, and an up-close study of nine well-worn snare-drum skins, stretched out like animal hides to reveal their respective treatment by old owners.
In the rich texture of this mixture of works, curated by Cassie Beadle and Rose Forde, viewers will find quiet nods to themes of freedom and constraint, sexual politics, violence, childhood memory – but counterbalancing them, the soothing mundanity of the everyday, or private, personal games played out here in public. There’s a touch of synaesthesia at play – but only insofar as we’re all synaesthetes on some subconscious level, before society smoothes out our oddities. Or is that these nuanced visual depictions of aural sensations have parallels with ASMR, and the dedicated digital world which exists around it? Either way, Sejersen’s deeply personal and yet profoundly familiar works strike a chord. They will continue to echo in your mind, like the echo of a dropped object, long after leaving.