In Heartwood we see the bust of a woman cleaved in two, seemingly fractured but ultimately revealing a message on the interconnectedness of humans and nature. The heartwood of a tree is not only the plant’s first growth, but also its most resilient: the middle section, usually dark, that’s visible in the cross-section of a tree trunk is the plant’s hard, dense, spine, resistant to decay.

Where one might expect to see the rings that indicate the age of a tree, we find fingerprint-like carvings. Drawing on these markings, created by nature to be unique to each tree or human respectively, the artist highlights similarities between man and the natural world in their growth to reach their current state of being.

The reflection of the two brings our attention to the similarities of these forms as symbols of our identities and history, and might lead audiences to think more deeply about their own makeup, from their innermost, resilient centre of being, taking note of our story all the way back to its origins.

Hallow presents multiple facets of meaning that are open to the audience’s interpretations. However it resonates with one’s journey through personal grief, from the first days to the later days of remembrance. With the piece, Popper proposes that grief and loss create a period both of darkness and of selfknowledge and growth, and that the vulnerability of grief is a condition that sees us opened up to feelings and states far beyond our usual perception.

The figure’s open chest suggests a wound, but also serene submission and divine acceptance rather than despair. “In the process of deep self-expression,” Popper says, “there can be immense growth and healing. When we express ourselves fully, we are closest to nature.” The work is framed by the natural light that changes with the seasons. Grief, like sunlight, is ever-changing, and the piece remains in a state of transformation as the surrounding nature changes with the seasons.

Umi is a woman, a tree, a womb, and a bower. Taking its name from the Arabic word for ‘mother’, this figure welcomes visitors into her nurturing shade.

The work draws inspiration from Gaia: both the goddess of Greek mythology and John Lovelock’s idea of the earth as a single, self-regulating organism. He wrote of the world as alive but “not as the ancients saw her – a sentient Goddess with a purpose and foresight – but alive like a tree. A tree that quietly exists, never moving except to sway in the wind, yet endlessly conversing with the sunlight and the soil.”

Umi is a reminder of the feminine imagery that has long offered understanding of the vast, intricate natural world.

This artwork is now installed permanently in The Aurora Highlands, Colorado.

Framed by fractured faces Sentient depicts the constant external noise that bombards humans in modern society. There is no end to the daily digital demands on our attention, which unroot us and desensitise us to our surroundings.

With her eyes closed in meditation, Sentient invites us to return to stillness and closeness to nature. Popper pays homage to John Muir, a naturalist who championed the preservation and conservation of natural landscapes for spiritual well-being. Muir noted that, “the clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”

Mycelia is named for the filigreed threads of fungi that transmit nutrients between plants and fungi. Set beneath the trees, Mycelia draws attention to the links between humans and the natural world and our interconnectedness with plants and fungi specifically.

German forest scientist and author Peter Wohlleben dubbed this network the “woodwide web”, as it is through the mycelium that trees “communicate”. Mushrooms are the fruit of the mycorrhizal network fungus, and connect trees through tiny threads called mycelium.

Popper’s artwork aims to show the link that we humans share with trees and mycelia alike: there’s no separation between the two as they are both part of an intricate whole. The mushrooms grow from within the figure, symbolising the fungi’s consciousness. They bloom only for a short time before decaying and fertilising the soil for the next mycelia.

Basilica borrows its title from the Greek word given to places of gathering and worship. With this piece, Popper “set out to create a gathering space” – an invitation to create community, gather together and be gathered up and held in peace by a loved one.

Rather than walls or ceilings, the borders of the space are two outstretched arms, which appear to be woven out of roots that bloom into open hands. They welcome the viewer into “a space held by nature”. The roots resemble the intricate veins and arteries that carry and transfer energy through both plants and people.

When standing within Basilica, the viewer is both inside and outside, prompting reflection on the inner and outer landscapes of the self, nature and the connection between the two. With this, we are urged to consider our place within the natural world.

The present is fleeting, momentary – summers come and go, leaves fall. Nothing is static. Ephemera, meaning that which exists for only a short time, is a meditation on the constancy of change. Ephemera is a meditation on this: that change is, in fact, constant.

In Greek mythology, Persephone steps into the light of earth each year, then returns to the shadows of the underworld. It’s her journey that marks the seasons, from decay to rebirth.