'When I look at this one the word ‘collusion’ comes to mind. The baboons are including us in their world, we’re perched up here with them while the evening city roars on and the sunset sky does its thing. Detritus, trash, an absurdly red flower, and these big-leaved, lush plants, all contribute to a vaguely dystopian mood, but then the baboons are so humorous, gazing out satirically as if to point out that it’s not entirely clear who’s looking and who’s being looked at. They seem to embody a proverb of some kind, if one could only understand it. The view is the view from where I live. In lockdown the view became smaller and smaller, it was as if nothing existed around any of the corners. The world really is a backdrop for our doings.

I actually changed the baboon on the left; in the original he looked a bit complacent and stolid, and I put him in a more wistful, engaging pose. I like how the sticks on the ground are the same shape as the baboon’s legs and tail – there are lots of resonances of shapes in this one. The binoculars have orange lenses like another pair of baboon eyes. It’s amazing how colour can hold everything together, even though the different bits don’t really make sense at all.'