Hilary Lloyd, ‘Very High Frequency’ is a retelling of Dennis Potter’s surreal work

English artist Hilary Lloyd’s film works defy easy classification. Lloyd likes to channel a mix of mediums and eclectic arrays of inspiration into a new way of seeing, often scattering monitors and screens around a space, forcing the viewer to move through an exhibition differently.

It is a multi-faceted performance also key in her new exhibition at Studio Voltaire, where she considers – perhaps surprisingly – the life and works of playwright, television dramatist and writer Dennis Potter (b 1935–d 1994). Through a series of short films featuring the collaborators, producers and actors who were close to Potter, including Gina Bellman, Alison Steadman, Richard E Grant and Kenith Trodd, Lloyd constructs a theatrical biography of Potter’s life and enduring influence – ultimately begging the question, why Potter?

‘I watched Potter when I was young and was shocked by how it looked, what was being done and said, and his use of dance and music, shifting from fiction to often terrifying reality,’ Lloyd says. ‘At the time UK TV felt more adventurous, and was broadcasting Fassbinder’s ‘Alexanderplatz’ as well as films by Ken Russell, a few Fellini, Godard, occasional Pasolini and Warhol.’

Spending time with Potter’s work has meant an immersion into his world, from the chronic health problems which shaped his days to his considerations of class inequality and power structures. In telling his story, Lloyd eschews a traditional exhibition format and narrative, choosing instead to position the screens in unexpected locations, unnerving the viewer and creating much the same effect as Potter’s flitting between reality and fantasy in his own work.

‘I have spent a lot of time experimenting with layering sound and music in gallery space,’ Lloyd adds. ‘What Potter does with music is completely fascinating. There is a distinctively Brechtian undertaking in the way he depicts postwar nostalgia embedded in the British psyche. The incongruous appearance of characters lip syncing to male crooners or doo-wop bands in his films emphasises a dreamlike space, for example. He often uses music to describe what the character wants to say but can’t.’