DEVOUR will eat you up and make you feel warm within its red belly

Words by Anastasia Tasou.

A group exhibition by The Feminine Urge Collective, DEVOUR brings together work about femininity, identity, loss, sin, and disgust. And I loved it.

I grew up in North Lincolnshire and studied art at college. That’s when I really became obsessed with the subject, spending hours flipping through my teacher’s beautiful books - but I don’t remember there being a local art scene, or not one that felt accessible to 16 year old me. I definitely didn’t feel represented as a young girl in the North, trying to figure out who I was, struggling with identity, grief, and everything in between.

I wish The Feminine Urge Collective had existed then. Visiting the opening night of DEVOUR made me think back to that time - the longing to belong, to be seen, to know there were others out there feeling the same complicated things.

The first piece you see when you enter sets the tone. Rachel Anderson’s hand-pieced quilt with an embroidered apple core is a quiet but powerful reflection on the work women so often carry without recognition.

“My piece is a commentary on the work that women take on in relationships - the invisible work. That’s why I used intensive hand stitching and left it visible, so you can see the labour that’s usually hidden.”

“Originally I wanted it to be perfect, but I was struggling to finish it in time. I decided to leave it unfinished, falling apart in places. That experience of making it proved the point - the work itself shows the toll.”

Caitlin Smith’s installation pulls the body apart, exaggerating its realities while pushing against how women are supposed to look - layers of contrasting materials and vivid, bodily colours in a human-monster form.

“So much of my practice is about the body - the organs, the veins, the movement - and trying to capture that through textiles and sculpture. I’m really drawn to the grotesque in my work - the push and pull between the body as something idolised and the reality of how it actually is.”

“People see women’s bodies as this perfected, idolised thing, but in reality everyday life doesn’t look like that. My work contrasts those expectations with my own experiences.”

That tension between beauty and discomfort also runs through Zivarna Murphy’s piece, a textured, ceramic vessel exploring her own experiences with lichen sclerosus.

“My piece is a vessel about my lived experience with lichen sclerosus. Making it was very cathartic - a form I built up and then slowly broke apart. It made me think about how life and stories devour my body. I wanted to make something beautiful out of something I’d hated for a long time, but learned to love over time.”

“I loved playing with texture - the silky inside against the rough outside - turning something that feels gross into something tender.”

Curator and exhibiting artist Lucy Brooke brings another layer - her piece rooted in a strange correspondence, and her perspective on building the exhibition itself.

“I received this unsolicited letter from a prisoner in Massachusetts - it was unsettling but fascinating. It raised so many questions about entitlement, boundaries, and my own reactions. I don’t think I’ll have the answers until long after this show is done.”

“I’ve always felt strongly about how exhibitions are managed. With just three of us running this, we’ve done the finance, the social media, the curation - everything. If we can bring sixteen artists into one room and get people to turn up, it shows it doesn’t have to be as impossible as galleries sometimes make it seem.”

Lucy’s words speak to what makes DEVOUR powerful: the individual works hold their own, but together they form a collective power. They don’t compete, but they exist alongside each other, weaving different experiences into one shared space.

I wanted to devote a special mention to Louisa Chase for her Sin Eater piece. It’s a set of drawers including layers upon layers of narrative and story and truth, including confessional letters submitted anonymously. I didn’t get a chance to speak to Louisa on the opening night, but I spent over an hour sitting with, around, and within the piece. It is a triumph.

Leaving the show, I thought about my teenage self, and how much it would have meant to walk into a room like this back then. To see these experiences taken seriously, displayed without apology. 

The exhibition runs until 14 September at the Pier Street pop-up, part of Freedom Festival Hull. Go see it if you can - not just to enjoy art, but to feel the presence of these 16 voices in unison. I can’t wait to see what The Feminine Urge Collective do next.

*Special thanks to UPNORF for the opportunity, and Sophie Lethem (@_anothersouvenir) for creating content for the evening.