Hermione Allsopp’s sculpture begins where ownership thins out. Charity shops, discarded furniture, worn household fittings: these are the materials she returns to, not because they are quaint or sentimental but because they have already absorbed use. They have been sat on, polished, stored, moved, neglected, kept for too long, and then given away. In conversation with Tamzin Lovell, Allsopp describes them as a “vessel of someone else’s memory”. That phrase is useful, but only up to a point. Her work is not about preserving intact stories. It is about what happens when memory becomes unstable in material form.