Nonetheless, she is keen to stress that she is not ambivalent when it comes to plastics. “I just like to address both sides,” she says. “It runs through all of my work.” Terrain, a 2013 series focusing on farming in sub-Saharan Africa, is made up of arresting and at times celebratory portraits of anonymous labourers, while simultaneously bringing up issues around food security and subsistence agriculture. Faith, completed in 2006, paints an austere yet intimate picture of Christian communities at a time when child sexual abuse charges against the Catholic Church were prevalent.
But where these projects focus on people, offering glimpses into their subjects’ lives, Field Test does the opposite. In one image, a figure stands alone in a field, their face and top half concealed by a billowing sheet of black. “These are plastic materials that protect, but also obscure identity,” she explains. “That lack of personal identity creates a kind of psychological stress.”
It is an anxiety which, for Nickerson, appears to compound the existing worries about plastics and the environment. With this removal of individual qualities, the artist looks to broaden the scope of the work further still. “Are we looking at a person or an inanimate object?” she asks. “Do retailers, politicians and social media companies think of us as individuals or as commodities?” Arguably, the book implies, the answer is both – it just depends who’s profiting.