Introduction by

Jessica Barker

For much of history, the practical geometry most of us would still recognise from school - circumference, set squares and ratios - sat alongside a less familiar branch of knowledge, known as sacred geometry: the idea that certain numbers, shapes, and ratios have symbolic meaning, and the patterns they generate might lead humans to a fuller knowledge of the divine. 

Sacred geometry is a source code for the created world, a divine matrix that structures the appearance of everything found in nature. In the Middle Ages, Christian and Islamic artists sought to replicate these divine patterns both to honour God as Creator and to ensure their images were in perfect harmony with the divine hum of the universe. 

Red’s geometric work draws from this historical tradition, while also reimagining it for the present day. Her five-fold, ten-fold and twelve-fold designs are painstakingly and meticulously constructed. At first glance their complexity and symmetry seem perfect, something created by God, or perhaps generated by Artificial Intelligence, rather than by human hand. But a closer look reveals a faint web of pencil-drawn lines behind the bold inked lines of the main pattern. These construction lines, deliberately left in rather than erased, reveal a human process of making: the hand of the artist lying behind the hand of God. Small imperfections abound - indigo ink from a coloured cell bleeds into its white neighbours, strong black outlines forge ahead, then turn tremulous and quiver from the shake of the hand, the shimmering surface of gilding cracks and fissures. 

These flaws in sacred patterns are visible traces of a fallible human body attempting to grasp the transcendent. Red’s recent brain injury means that she is physically unable to produce geometric patterns with the same degree of accuracy as before. This encourages her to reflect on the value of both beauty and imperfection, of acknowledging rather than concealing so-called mistakes. She continues to produce images according to strict geometric rules, liberated from rigid ideas of accuracy, precision or exactitude. The result is a series of new works that speaks powerfully to the idea of the human caught up in the divine, of the beauty inherent in our frailty and vulnerability.

There is also a surprisingly playful and light-hearted aspect to these works. Red’s geometrical images are based on historical patterns, but her choice of colours is modern. Each cell is filled with watercolour pigment, bleeding into the main area of the design. In one piece, the entire pattern is filled with indigo, recalling washed-out denim, in others washes of many different colours bleed into each other like tie-dye. Others are largely metallic— silver, copper, rose gold— but with splats or blotches of pink, orange or neon red. 

They remind me of 1970s or 80s album covers, the kind of psychedelic space fantasies I associate with David Bowie. Sacred geometry might seem too remote an idea for many of us, but in Red’s hands these historical patterns are compellingly reimagined: playful, vulnerable, human, and yet pointing towards something bigger than our contemporary world, a kind of universal harmony that we could all tune in to if only we could learn how to listen. 

Dr Jessica Barker is a specialist in medieval art. She studied at the University of Oxford and the Courtauld Institute of Art, where she was a Henry Moore Postdoctoral Fellow. She joined The Courtauld in 2018 after two years as a lecturer in world art at the University of East Anglia.

Jessica’s research ranges across northern Europe and the Iberian peninsula. Her prize-winning book Stone Fidelity: Marriage and Emotion in Medieval Tomb Sculpture explores the intersection of love and death in funerary art. She has published widely on death and commemoration, with articles in journals including Art History, The Burlington Magazine, Gesta, and The Sculpture Journal. Jessica’s current projects include co-curating an exhibition exploring measurement and regulation in medieval and contemporary art, entitled The Rule: Shaping Lives, Medieval and Modern, which will open at the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Art in 2026.

RED GIBBONS: ARTIST STATEMENT

My work is often galvanised by cultural intrigue. Whilst training in the art of medieval manuscript illumination, I was introduced to the wonderful world of traditional geometric art. This taps into my affiliation with southern Spain, my deep love for the Spanish city of Granada and its Alhambra, and my admiration for medieval cathedrals and their vivid rose windows. Five-fold patterns, ten-fold patterns, twelve-fold patterns - the territory is expansive and engrossing, marrying my intense need to create with my love of mathematical precision, problem-solving and colour. 

As I delved into the history and tradition of sacred geometry, I found myself gravitating back to an ancient craft which had captured my heart at the age of 17: origami. I launched into a season of geometric fervour, constructing and folding long into the night. I became enchanted with origami butterflies on account of their symmetrical sculptural quality, and their potential to be both dynamic and restful. 

Following the trauma of my brain injury in September 2023, my artwork has been a vehicle for my recovery. I hadn’t realised just how acutely connected my physical and emotional state are to my creations. Looking back over my work, I see the pieces that absorbed my frustration, expressed my anger, revealed my weariness and placated my worries. The injury has brought a new flavour to my work which, despite the challenges I sometimes face in making it, has taught me a crucial reality – that there is beauty in imperfection. 

Geometric artwork

My geometric paintings are inspired by traditional patterns found in historic spaces, with a particular focus on the ceramic tiles of the Alhambra in Granada. My love of detail and artistic process is visible in these works by my tendency to leave the construction lines exposed, and my exploration of painterly techniques unique to watercolour. In recent months these paintings present me with additional challenges: my need for precision also requires a willingness to be patient, both of which have been markedly compromised by the injury to my brain which I sustained in September. 

Laudate was a turnaround point in my post-injury painting – I saw the spark of joy and lightness return in the colour palette and the playfulness of my design. It birthed the idea for a series entitled The Seven Canonical Hours - the seven prayer times that traditionally punctuate the day in Catholic monasteries. The theme marries my love of church history with my admiration for medieval art and design, and offers the exciting challenge of representing visually something that is largely experiential.

Origami artwork

My origami artwork uses a playful medley of papers ranging from exquisitely handcrafted sheets of Japanese washi to carefully selected magazine cut outs. Through a choreographed set of folds, pinches and tucks, each square of paper is transformed into a delicate sculpture. They then either congregate into explosive kaleidoscopic displays or sit restfully against a painted or collaged backdrop. 

The single iridescent butterflies are a spin on framed taxidermy butterflies, the iridescence a nod to striking metallic types such as the Blue Morpho, the Emerald Swallowtail and the Adonis Blue. In The Beginning captures the vibrancy of new life, the explosive essence of the dawn of Creation. It acts as a bright and energetic pendant to Past Midnight which presents a snapshot of night-time activity – the moonlit dance of the butterflies. 

Illuminated initials

In 2010 I dived into an MA in Medieval Art History at the Courtauld Institute which unlocked for me the captivating world of ivories and enamels, diptychs, triptychs and most crucially manuscripts. Under the guidance of Professor John Lowden, we cultivated internal microscopes, absorbing the minutest detail of these treasures and analysing them with satiating Socratic curiosity. 



My dissertation took me to Brussels and New York on a quest to understand a group of Apocalypse manuscripts, concluding with more questions than answers and giving me incredibly itchy fingers. The artist in me longed to experience the process of making medieval art. The carefully prepared vellum, the meticulously ground pigments, the sensitively placed gems and gold - it was too much to resist. In 2014 I therefore trained in manuscript illumination at The Prince’s School of Traditional Arts. 

My gilded initials are often commissioned as bespoke pieces for specific individuals. In both their design and their execution, I draw inspiration from the medieval tradition whilst making them personal and embracing modern elements where appropriate. The purist and rulebreaker in me work in tandem to create painted initials that are both authentic in their materials - genuine gold leaf and natural pigments all the way - and yet accessible and fun to a modern audience.