Kira Freije: Unspeak the Chorus

Freije has created 26 new works for this show, life-size figures imbued with a rich and often warm humanity that draw you in but whose ambiguities defy singular readings

Kira Freije: Unspeak the Chorus, installation view, The Hepworth Wakefield, November 2025 – May 2026. Photo: Lewis Ronald.

The Hepworth Wakefield
22 November 2025 – 4 May 2026

by DAVID TRIGG

The life-size metal figures that make up the cast populating this immersive exhibition at the Hepworth Wakefield render the human body as skeletal and cage-like. Evoking tableaux vivants, the steel and aluminium sculptures resemble performers, variously posed as if acting out scenes from a play. Some are arranged in intimate groupings, interacting with one another, while others stand alone, absorbed in their own inner worlds. Several are accompanied by metal animals, mouth-blown glass balloons and various found objects that suggest larger yet tantalisingly obscure narratives. Kira Freije has created each of the 26 works especially for this exhibition, which is the British artist’s largest to date, and although she favours hard, industrial materials, her mysterious characters are imbued with a rich and oftentimes warm humanity.

Kira Freije: Unspeak the Chorus, installation view, The Hepworth Wakefield, November 2025 – May 2026. Photo: Lewis Ronald.

Freije’s sculptures typically combine cold-formed metalwork and sand-cast aluminium – skills she acquired while working with blacksmiths in Sussex. Each one starts with Freije casting her own hands and feet before welding together strips of steel to form legs, arms and torsos. Undulating lines delineate shoulders, elbows and thighs, and although the figures are all hollow, they have an uncanny lifelike presence. The heads are cast from the faces of friends and family members, but their anonymity shuts down any biographical readings of the work. Furthermore, the figures’ ungendered bodies give each one an unspecified and androgynous identity.

Freije delights in constructing playful ambiguities and uncertainties, posing her figures in frozen moments of expressive action that can be interpreted in multiple ways. In one sculpture, a man holds a piece of cloth aloft, as if reaching up to clean a window – or is he signalling for help? Another piece portrays a figure seemingly assisting one who has fallen, though there could be something more sinister at play here. Nearby, a couple embrace: a joyful reunion or a last farewell? Elsewhere, a solitary figure surrounded by glass balloons stands hunched over; similarly hard to read, it is unclear whether they are doubled up in pain or laughter. Although these works draw you in and cause you to ponder their enigmatic narratives, they resist singular readings.

Kira Freije, The Calm Endurance of Grief, 2025, installation view, Unspeak the Chorus, The Hepworth Wakefield, November 2025 – May 2026. Photo: Lewis Ronald.

The inclusion of props such as furniture and buckets adds further layers of mystery. In The Calm Endurance of Grief (2025), a figure teeters on the edge of a seatless stool, gazing into an icy feeding trough, while a meditative figure kneels by their side, clutching their leg. Other works take a more surreal turn: a pair of wall-mounted arms with hands raised heavenwards as if in praise; a disembodied hand holds a flag; and a pair of rigid metal legs stands on tiptoes, stuffed with what appears to be soft sheep’s wool. Such works register an array of moods, feelings and emotional atmospheres.

Freije’s interest in ambiguity extends to her lyrical titles, which are left wide open to interpretation. The evocative possibilities of language are evinced with phrases such as “search, adrift, the vast and violent field” and “softly the hour”, but the frustration here is that the wall labels are presented in a way that makes it virtually impossible for individual sculptures to be matched with their titles. This is exacerbated by the sheer number of works in the space, their close proximity to one another leaving the single-room show feeling somewhat cluttered.

Kira Freije: Unspeak the Chorus, installation view, The Hepworth Wakefield, November 2025 – May 2026. Photo: Lewis Ronald.

The experience of walking among Freije’s slightly eerie figures is like entering their silent world, a curious and emotionally charged space which in Wakefield has been enhanced by renowned lighting designer Matt Daw, whose recessed stage lights cast strong and dramatic shadows. A misty haze fills the air courtesy of a smoke machine, while a wall of stainless-steel panels reflect both artificial and natural light on to the sculptures. The combined effect is one of elegant theatricality but, unlike in a theatre, these still performers are viewed in the round and the more you move, the more they reveal themselves. A subtle expression, a suggestive gesture and other small details that are easily missed at first can change your reading of the work depending on your vantage point.

Kira Freije: Unspeak the Chorus, installation view, The Hepworth Wakefield, November 2025 – May 2026. Photo: Lewis Ronald.

Several figures are dressed in capes and cloaks made from pieces of vintage and antique fabrics sourced from an upholsterer friend, an element that causes Freije’s works to appear out of time. In fact, there is little here to link them with our contemporary moment, or indeed any specific era. Some writers have noted that their poses evoke medieval or renaissance paintings, seeing in them characters from Fra Angelico, Sassetta or Lorenzo Lotto compositions. Yet, at the same time, their amalgamation of human and machine-like qualities, also suggest cyborgs and the technological sublime. This quality of being simultaneously ancient and futuristic adds to the work’s nebulous and cryptic nature. It elicits a sensation of being in flux, a tension between certainty and doubt, solidity and instability. In this, Freije’s cold steel sculptures reflect something of what it means to be human.

Kira Freije: Unspeak the Chorus, installation view, The Hepworth Wakefield, November 2025 – May 2026. Photo: Lewis Ronald.