Yasmin Watts is a sculptor working at the intersection of memory, material, and spatial poetics.

Her practice unfolds from spaces between—between languages, cultures, histories, and forms. She creates sculptural installations that act as thresholds: visceral environments where silence becomes substance and absence speaks.

Each form is a hinge, a holding point, a question suspended in weight.

Rooted in her Zoroastrian heritage and diasporic experience, Watts' work is guided by a sensitivity to rhythm, duality, and the body’s way of remembering. Her forms—vessels, fragments, suspended figures—appear in the margins: in folds, creases, and corners. Their quietness resists spectacle, inviting proximity rather than pronouncement.

I build micro-worlds—scattered, suspended, resilient. Like breath. Like dust. Like self.
I sway. I cross. I miss. I land. I keep moving.

These forms do not declare. They hold. They linger. They pause. Her sculptures dwell in margins—creases, folds, soft geometries that resist monumentality and invite closeness..

Micro-spaces. Not rooms. Not walls.
Creases. Corners. Edges. Surfaces. Pauses.

You are not outside the work. You’re in it. You’re part of it. It breathes through you.
Material has weight. It has temperature. It tells the truth.
You can touch it. It touches back.

Each sculpture is an invitation to enter, to dwell, to feel the weight of silence. Here, architecture becomes gesture. Material becomes memory. Presence becomes porous.

This is a practice of quiet resistance; of returning to the body, to memory, to fire. A sculptural language born from what can’t be spoken, but must be held.

This is not a performance. It’s a return.
A rhythm of repair. A space to hold questions.
A practice shaped by the flame that still moves within.

Watts invites us into sculptural worlds that murmur, that breathe, that listen back.