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Transmission: An Interview with Artist Saint Scott-Handy
There’s a raw energy in the moment just after graduating, when nothing is fixed and everything matters. For queer artists especially, this threshold holds both uncertainty and urgency, a moment suspended between what has been and what could be. These conversations capture artists on the cusp, still carrying the intensity of making under pressure, and beginning to shape what kind of future they might insist into being.
As part of our ongoing conversations with queer graduating students from UCA (University for the Creative Arts) about their degree show work, we spoke with Saint Scott-Handy, a mixed media artist working with film, performance, and installation. Their piece Chiron’s Rule: Legacy of Traces brings emotional residue into focus, exploring trauma as a material and perceptual force. In this conversation, Saint shares reflections on art as a site of repair, the politics of emotion, and the slow process of allowing clarity to emerge over time. What emerges is a thoughtful look at how presence and absence shape not just art, but lived experience.
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Pup and Tiger: Can you tell us a little about the work you showed in the degree show?
Saint Scott-Handy: ‘Chiron’s Garden; Legacy of traces’ was the manifestation of my last three years as an artist searching for ways to bring the intangible experiences of emotion into physicalisation. The work is a reflection of not just my own but many peoples experiences with the cyclical nature of care and harm. I was putting onto surface traumas traces on minds and bodies, and our attempts to conceal and erase them. I think the experience of creating ‘Chiron’s rule’ has been confronting for me, it has exposed a lot my own ignorance or even dismissal on how trauma is affecting me and my perception. And specially as a queer person, with the stress and vulnerability of existing in a world as unstable as it is today, it’s easy to sort of go about ignoring the hurt. But we all need to bring it to the surface eventually.
PT: What drew you to make this kind of work?
SSH: As an artist I think we’re all called to make work to express our minds and emotions, to be heard in some way. For me art is therapy, and it felt right to use my voice to represent not only my personal experience but just the experience of being a human. For so many the effects of trauma are misunderstood even to themselves, and I was drawn to make work that raises awareness to this issue, but also provides a site of comfort for those affected.
PT: Has your work changed a lot during your time at university? How do you think it’s grown or shifted?
SSH: University completely shifted the trajectory of my work, before university my understanding of conceptual art was very limited as I was hesitant to engage with what I didn’t understand. I think I was insecure my work wouldn’t be understood without being literal but being around such diverse array of amazing artists and tutors provided me with the guidance I needed to confidently explore the boundaries of my creative abilities. These days I am less focused on the literal meaning of my work and more the emotional encounters from creating and experiencing art.
PT: What’s something you’re feeling curious or excited about now, in your art or just in general?
SSH: I’m curious as to where my practice will take me, even in the short time between the end of term and our graduate show I’ve been developing and evolving, it’s an exciting if not, sometimes daunting process leaving something behind to follow something new.
PT: Are there any artists, writers, films, or music that have been feeding into your practice lately?
SSH: I think I’ve been thinking a lot about Sarah Ahmed’s work, particularly the book ‘The cultural politics of emotion’. Her writing has really influenced the way I explore trauma and emotion in my practice, especially with the political climate at the moment. Her concept ‘affective economies’, the way we place value on validating the emotions and how they stick to certain narratives and bodies really shifted how I thought about my work. As my art is my voice, I have the opportunity to challenge the cultural and political structures that unfairly decide whose experiences are represented and whose are dismissed. I want my work to help hold space for diverse experiences, not to reproduce the hierarchies that often silence them.
PT: What’s something you wish people knew or understood better about your work?
SSH: Not everyone has to understand my work right away, and that not everything has to make sense in the moment. Somethings take a while to settle in. Experience my work and sit with it before you question it, but please do question it, because questioning is important and I welcome it (and I think it’s worth saying this approach can apply to a lot of art, especially the conceptual kind). I think it’s okay if clarity comes later.
PT: Finally, where can people follow your work or see more of what you’re doing?
Instagram @Immaterialrelics https://saintscotthandyf71f.myportfolio.com/
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Transmissions is an ongoing series from Pup and Tiger, spotlighting voices across queer art and cultural practice. We publish interviews, essays, and experimental texts that offer space for artists to speak in their own words and on their own terms.
Pup and Tiger is a queer-led art space and project platform based in Canterbury, UK. We champion emerging practices, experimental forms, and collective cultural work rooted in care, resistance, and reimagining.
Jared Pappas-Kelley is an artist, writer, and co-founder of Pup and Tiger. His work has appeared in Art Monthly, The Guardian, 3:AM Magazine, Cabinet, and The Rumpus. He is the author of Solvent Form: Art and Destruction, To Build a House That Never Ceased, and Stalking America. Pappas-Kelley has curated exhibitions internationally and has led several independent art spaces and collaborative initiatives, including Critical Line, Tollbooth, and Don’t Bite the Pavement.
