A vintage toy rocket stands improbably upright in a city park, its astronaut poised in the open doorway. Beyond, the skyline rises in darkened blocks; below, clover flowers and a bumblebee occupy the grass at an almost heroic scale. Familiar elements meet in unfamiliar proportions, creating a scene that is playful, nostalgic and quietly surreal.

Take Me to Your Leader draws on the optimism of mid-century science fiction and the excitement of the Space Age. The rocket, based on a 1960s Hungarian tinplate toy, once transformed on impact - standing upright, opening its door and presenting its astronaut for first contact. Here, that theatrical moment is suspended between arrival and encounter.

Yet the visitor’s intended audience remains uncertain. Is the astronaut addressing the distant city, with its monuments to human progress and ambition, or the bumblebee quietly inhabiting the foreground?

The work places two ideas of progress side by side: our fascination with technology, exploration and the future, and the older natural systems continuing beneath it all.

Humorous yet contemplative, Take Me to Your Leader leaves its central question unresolved: when searching for intelligence, progress or leadership, are we looking in the right direction?