A Ledger is a book made to stay in one place, a record that, although abstract in its annotations, is rooted to the spot.
In this substantial new body of work, Skaer explores an extended idea of a book, one in which it becomes a place. Two large toyobo prints mimic the pages of a book. They pose Skaer's photographs of stone in a landscape, and sculptures made from stone. Appearing side by side on the spread, they animate and question one another.

In the main room, a huge hand-blown glass work mimics the lines of a ruled page; its cells imply calculations. The work explores the intersection of minimalism, materiality, abstraction and the ways in which knowledge inhabit and illuminate the place it is in. The work changes constantly as it responds to the changing light in the room, seeming to float above the floor or appear from a cloud of mist. The idea of document is thus destabilised by its own appearance as an object in the world.