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the ballot attempted to present the full complexity of relations between my grandfather Claude Prince and the architect Peter Corrigan. The presentation moved across the landscape of my upbringing in New Zealand, my grandfather’s extraordinary pool-table automata replete with spinning plastic Gorillas, my acknowledgement of Peter, and finally to his voice stored permanently as an unanswered message on my phone. I correlated this to Iron Jewellery, where gold jewellery given up in support of the war effort was reflected in an imperfect copy made from iron.

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