Laura Wilson is an artist who is interested in how history is carried and evolved through everyday materials, trades and craftsmanship. Here Laura reflects on how her 2024 fellowship with Bow Arts Trust and V&A East developed into a sculptural commission which was unveiled at V&A East Museum this April as well as a new display at V&A East Storehouse.
You were a Bow Arts x V&A East Fellow in 2024. Can you tell us about the fellowship and the research that emerged from it?
The fellowship built upon a body of work I had been developing over several years, exploring how bodies move through different forms of labour. I found myself thinking increasingly about women’s labour, the relationship between work and the body, and the clothing people wear while performing different forms of work.
For the Bow Arts x V&A East Fellowship, I proposed researching the industries in which women worked across East London and considering how clothing shaped movement within those environments. The scope of that history is remarkably broad, ranging from soap making and confectionery production to factory work and munitions manufacturing during the war years as well as domestic labour within the home. My research took me into local archives, conversations with residents, historians and specialists, and extensive fieldwork across East London. One discovery that stayed with me was a set of women’s overalls and a cap held in Newham Council Archives. Alongside this archival work, I established a reading and research group that brought together people from different disciplines, including fashion,design and cultural history.
The river also shaped the material side of the project. Based out of the Bow Arts studio space at Gallions Reach on the Thames, I began making natural dyes using materials gathered locally around the studio. Coffee grounds came from nearby cafés, while avocados were collected from Stratford Westfield. I colour-matched these dyes to examples of historic workwear found in archives and developed a palette that connected the research directly to the making process.
Working with womenswear designer Georgia Gough, I used these colours to develop a new set of overalls inspired by the garments I had encountered in both local collections and the V&A archives. The fellowship culminated in a performance that brought many of these strands together, using water gathered from the Thames, which had also been used throughout the dyeing process.
How did you begin responding to the theme of Making East London for this commission?
The commission felt like a natural continuation of the fellowship. The research had opened up so many questions and conversations that I wanted to pursue further. At the centre of the project was an interest in labour: the rhythms of working life, the systems that structure it and the people whose bodies move through those systems every day.
I became increasingly interested in why so much industry developed in this part of London. The river, the docks and the movement of goods all shaped the area. Looking through the collection, I was drawn to loom weights, machinery and objects that reveal the hidden infrastructures behind production.
At the same time, I was thinking about the social dimensions of work. While many processes have become increasingly automated, labour remains fundamentally human. I wanted to think about the movements, routines and rhythms that structure working lives.
One object that stayed with me was a work bell I encountered at Tate & Lyle factory in the Docklands. Historically, bells regulated the beginning and end of shifts and organised the rhythms of industrial labour. It prompted me to think about work not simply as a physical activity but as a cycle, marked by repetition, routine and time. From that point, I knew I did not want to create something static. I wanted the work to shift, move and change over time, echoing the rhythms and cycles that had become central to the research.
Cycles, circles and movement appear repeatedly throughout the project. How did those ideas develop?
The idea of the circle has continually resurfaced throughout my research and practice. If I think back to the fellowship, circles were already present in many forms: the cycles of the working day, the movement of the tides, the phases of the moon and the rhythms that structure both labour and daily life. I regularly recorded tide times and became interested in how the movement of water shaped the movement of people, materials and goods.
Historically, shipping and industry relied upon these rhythms, with vessels able to arrive and depart only at particular times.
At the same time, I was looking at photographs of industrial labour, including images from the Maurice Broomfield archive. Many of these photographs capture repetitive gestures and circular movements performed within factory environments
How did those ideas eventually develop into the suspended discs that form the three sculptures which make your installation at V&A East Museum?
Initially, I was thinking about curtains and protective coverings used on building sites and demolition projects. These temporary structures shield workers, buildings and passers-by while allowing work to continue behind them.
From there, I began thinking about industrial fabrics more broadly and the mechanisms that move materials through factories, docks and construction sites. This led me to research pulley systems, which are used across many different forms of labour, from shipping and construction to theatre production.
What fascinated me was discovering the connections between these different worlds. While researching pulleys, I encountered references within the V&A’s theatre collections and learned about the historical relationship between maritime labour and theatre traditions. Many theatrical terms and superstitions originated from shipping culture, revealing unexpected links between these fields.
As the project developed, I worked with JD McDougall, a fabric supplier based in Stratford that has long supplied materials to theatres. Through conversations with their team, I began testing fabrics that could respond to movement while also meeting practical requirements.
The suspended discs emerged from this process. They combine references to industrial systems, textile production and cyclical movement while creating a structure that can change over time through activation and performance.
The colours also emerged directly from the research. I selected high-visibility yellow and orange, colours associated with labour, industry and safety, alongside a softer peach tone that references the avocado dye developed during the fellowship and features on the Overalls.
Text and poetry play an important role in the installation. Where did the writing come from?
The writing became a way of bringing these different voices together. Rather than presenting research in a purely explanatory way, I wanted the text to encourage visitors to pause and reflect on some of the questions that had emerged throughout the project.
The title of the commission is ‘Heads! Look to the Workers’. Can you tell us about its meaning?
“Heads” is a term used in theatre as a call for attention. It signals that something is about to happen and asks people to become alert to what is taking place around them.
I became interested in the idea of adapting that call and redirecting it towards workers and forms of labour that often go unnoticed. In that sense, ‘Heads! Look to the Workers’ is both an instruction and an invitation. It asks us to pay attention to the people whose work sustains the systems, industries and infrastructures that shape everyday life.
Collaboration is clearly central to your practice. Why is working with others so important to you?
I see artistic practice as a process of conversation and exchange rather than something that happens in isolation. While I may begin with an idea, bringing a project into the world often depends upon the knowledge, skills and expertise of many different people.
What interests me is not simply the outcome of those collaborations but the process itself: the conversations, discoveries and exchanges that happen along the way. Working collaboratively also means recognising that no one person possesses all the necessary knowledge. Whether I am speaking with an archivist, a designer, a historian or a fabric manufacturer, each person contributes a perspective that enriches the work.
For me, collaboration is also about acknowledging and honouring those forms of expertise.
The project exists because of those contributions, and it is important that they remain visible within the final work.
You can learn more about Laura Wilson’s practice on her website here: laurawilson.me