Omega
Omega began with an interest in corbels: architectural objects whose original purpose can become almost invisible once they are removed from the buildings they were made for. Around 75% of a corbel is functional, while the remaining 25% is decorative, yet when seen in its intended setting – a church or cathedral – that distinction is often lost. The craftspeople who made them intended for their resting place to be in buildings, as part of the architecture. Placed in a museum or gallery, the object becomes useless.
The stone used to make Omega was reclaimed from Canterbury Cathedral, although its exact provenance and original function are unknown. It could once have sat beneath a sculpture, supported a window or formed part of another architectural structure. The anonymity allows for the viewer to suggest many possibilities: a king, Christ, a saint, or simply an architectural fragment that has outlived the purpose for which it was made.
The title Omega, meaning “the end” in Latin, reflects this uncertainty surrounding the life and afterlife of objects. Museums preserve artefacts, but in doing so they can also separate them from the functions and contexts that once gave them meaning. Omega considers what happens when an object reaches the apparent end of its useful life, and whether that end can ever truly be determined.
The process of making the sculpture became part of this question. As the stone was washed and treated, layers of lichen and tarnish were revealed and removed. The process suggested the washing and preparation of a body for its onward journey. This ritual of cleaning that also transformed the surface and appearance of the stone.
In this sense, the final form of Omega was partly taken out of Danny’s control. When cleaning the stone, black lichen surfaced. In order to stem the growth, Danny cleaned the stone. But after this, the surface texture changed. What appeared to be the finished sculpture continued to change through chance, material and process. This mirrors the history of the corbels that inspired it: the skilled artisan who originally made such an object could never have imagined that its final point of usefulness might be removed from its control centuries later. The signs of lichen remain, dead and fossilised.
The end of Omega, therefore, remains unresolved. Like the architectural fragments that inform it, the sculpture exists between function and object, past and present, intention and chance. Its ending is still to be decided.
Omega, 2026
Limestone
POA