I construct environments that you enter into. Kind of an envelope, if you like which you can then be inside.
I don't have a routine to the day really, sometimes I might be sound editing, sometimes I might be working with quite big physical processes downstairs.
I often work with new materials or try things out to see what they might do. I always have to touch everything myself. It's very much about the process and it's the process isn't something which I can delegate to someone else because a lot of the decisions are very intuitive.
So these are the first test pieces to check if it works technically. If this works, then we're going pull some really big ones. I just collect a lot of things in the beginning, I'm not really interested in things that already display their value. It's about how things come together that become something interesting.
A lot of the things I work with are the leftover materials. They're leftover things that haven't really got a particular purpose or use so they're free to become anything.
And I think the bits of space that I'm interested in are also like that they're the leftover pieces of space. Like if you think of the city a bit like the sea and then you have these eddies and corners where things get stuck and get left or the tide goes out and things are left there.
And I think the materials I work with are those kinds of things which are in a way, I think of a bit like the unconscious - of the collective unconscious of the city somehow. It's like our memories or our - It's like all the things that you have deep in your head, you don't really look at them most of the time, but they form you as a person.
This is as much as my studio as my the studio is a studio. It feels very peaceful doesn't it in a way but as soon as you put headphones on when you're recording you just hear so much stuff.
These places I really like the actual studio in terms of the thinking space and... gathering space I suppose because they're full of unexpected encounters or accidents or things that you don't anticipate.
Drifting down here it's quite meditative. Drifting's like a really nice sensation isn't it because you're making progress but it's also out of your control.
To get everything done there needs to be quite a clear structure but then within that I like to allow processes to run their course and to allow accidents to happen.
I can't ever say exactly what something will be until it's finished and that will only happen in situ.
I've often observed the work at a distance to see how people relate to it, how they react to it how they move through it
I went in one day in one of the gallery guards, he said: 'You can't believe what I saw yesterday, there was a 16-year-old girl weightlifting with your concrete. I can't believe that this happened'
And he was shocked because it was a gallery and he was like people know that they shouldn't touch things in the gallery.
And that's true but in another way, I was quite thrilled by that reaction because the fact that she'd done that meant that she had totally embraced - she didn't feel like she was in Hayward Gallery anymore.
I guess everything that I do might be focused towards creating this particular atmosphere. So you can, of course, see an image of it and you can read about it but you can't really understand what it is unless you're within it and that's the main thing about this works. It's the feeling of being in them
The main thing about these works is the feeling of being in them’ says Hardy.
The artist builds sentient spaces using found objects and materials, as well as sound recordings from the city. ‘I’m not interested in things that display their value. It’s about how things come together that become interesting’.
Hardy has created Tate Britain's Winter Commission for the gallery’s Millbank frontage. On display 30 November 2019 – 26 January 2020.