A 1983 video sleeve on one deep violet field running to all four edges, lit brightest behind the object and falling away into a burnt vignette at all four corners, shot on transparency and reproduced on cheap stock with a fine dye grain over the whole frame: a bunch of flowers or a potted plant, flat and frontal, a vase of cut flowers standing dead centre in the lower two-thirds, lit hard from behind so its body goes almost black while its rim and shoulders catch a bright edge of the field hue, with one flat eye laid inside it at its centre in the hot ink. Across its upper body a two-sentence tagline in a transitional serif in proper case with full stops, and directly beneath that immense lowercase built from squared-off strokes, the counters and joints drawn as thin hairlines in the ground colour so each letter reads as one white slab set in ultrabold, immense, letters set so tight they almost touch, the bowls nearly closed — a word is one solid mass in the hot ink and turned ninety degrees — a line of small caps running up one edge of the sheet, its baseline against the trim, centred. Under them Saturday 2 August, doors 7.30pm, 18 Mare Street E8 3RH. One field hue and one ink, soft photograph, hard flat type.