When life gives you sardine tins, grow a garden.

The wall stood like a garden frozen in time. Each plant seemed alive yet still, its metallic form capturing the essence of nature with an industrial twist. Fiona Hall's work wasn’t just art; it was a quiet protest against waste. The sardine tins were bent and shaped into leaves, stems, and petals—objects that once held sustenance now transformed into symbols of growth. I found myself drawn to the cactus sculpture in the middle row. Its sharp edges mirrored the resilience of nature itself. The dark blue wall behind it felt intentional, like a night sky grounding this metallic forest. It was art that whispered instead of shouted, leaving you to fill the silence with your own thoughts.