Neon Parc

George has long been fascinated by cathedrals as spaces of awe, both historically and contemporaneously. Cologne Cathedral holds a particular significance as one of the few major buildings in the city to survive the bombings of the Second World War, it carries within its architecture a layered history of destruction, survival and renewal. During her visit, George became interested in the way light moves through the cathedral, shifting in intensity and colour as it encounters its architectural surfaces.

In the diptych ‘Cathedral 1 & 2’ (2026), the Gothic stone façade of the cathedral informs a linear structure, punctuated by the spiked edges of the bronze frames. Warm, neutral grounds are interrupted by fields of saturated colour, recalling the high yellow light of the cathedral’s stained-glass windows as it appears to spill and dissolve across surrounding surfaces. Through embroidery, George slows this fleeting phenomenon into a tactile, material form, building each composition through layers of thread, colour and raised stitchwork.

This interest in stained glass extends into a series of nine smaller works, ‘Window 1-9’ (2026), inspired by Gerhard Richter’s pixelated stained-glass window at Cologne Cathedral, exploring the way light moves through the work and activates its shifting fields of colour. While in ‘Traffic lights’ (2026), George turns her attention to a more familiar encounter with light. This work began with the reflection of traffic lights in a pane of glass at a tram stop, superimposed over the sky and greenery beyond. ‘Sky piece (London, Berlin, Melbourne)’ (2026), part of an ongoing series, similarly considers the sky as a familiar yet strange source of everyday awe.

Across the body of work, George explores the ephemeral and changing nature of light, through the specific materiality of thread and bronze. Soft, labour-intensive textiles meet the weight, permanence and historical associations of cast bronze, creating works that occupy a space between painting, sculpture and textile. Meticulous stitchwork accumulates slowly across the surface, transforming fleeting impressions of light and colour into contemplative, tactile records of time.