School of Fine Art Sculpture & Environmental Art
Fi Hales
My work engages with themes of feminist and queer theory, exploring the complexities of human identity and the psychological forces that shape our sense of self. With a particular focus on the darker aspects of the human experience, including depression and alienation, I approach these themes through characterisations that blend psychological insight with elements of humour and performance. Drawing on a self-reflective notion of being ‘in costume,’ my practice examines how individuals navigate identity, often performing roles shaped by societal expectations.
Utilising handmade costumes and a blend of photography and film, my work becomes a vehicle for these ‘clownish’ personas—embodying both absurdity and profound vulnerability. In my exploration of these constructed identities, I aim to reveal the often-hidden truths behind personal and collective disguises. As someone who has long felt ‘in costume,’ my work views human beings as perpetually navigating the tension between their authentic selves and the masks they wear to survive in a complex world.
Works
The Gift Shop
The Gift Shop of Janice Lore is a short film and performative archive excavating the decaying, waxy remnants of a woman who never existed—except in the eyes of others. She is every discarded actress, every grotesque “before” photo, every cautionary tale told in mascara. She is Janice Lore: a museum piece, a hag, a punchline, and a desperate attempt to remain visible in a system that only loves women when they’re dying beautifully.
This work is a feminist confrontation with the genre of hagsploitation, a term coined to mock the roles older women are allowed to play—monsters, madwomen, aging divas clinging to their youth with red nails and broken wigs. But instead of parodying the hag, I am her. I play every role in this story, not to showcase versatility, but to reclaim authorship. This is not a comeback. It’s a haunting.
Janice walks through a museum of distorted versions of herself, curated by a narrator who sounds suspiciously like an inner critic. She is categorised, ridiculed, aestheticized. This is not new. It’s just finally visible.
I made this piece because I was tired of being told that femininity is only powerful when it’s pretty, passive, or in pain. Janice is none of those things. She’s deranged. She’s funny. She’s dangerous. And most importantly, she’s still here.
