Lucie McLaughlin is an artist and writer from Belfast

2020-2022  MLitt Art Writing, Glasgow School of Art

2017             BA(Hons) Fine Art, Central Saint Martins


Suppose A Collapse arranges moments between two cities, each viewed through the lens of the other, intimately mapping the interiors of a fourth floor flat in Madrid and the childhood bedroom of a three-bed semi in Belfast. Memoir, poem and essay combine to form a collection of experiences based on the author’s changing relationship with her absent father, extended ‘(non)family’ and mother, while film and art inform the movement between lucidity and a fracturing present. How many times can we fold up our lives into smaller and smaller shapes until there’s no room anymore, only the one that we’re in? 


Forthcoming in 2020 with JOAN, a publishing project supporting new feminist and queer voices–explored through interdisciplinary artists’ writing.

Listen to two excerpts from the book, Fizzy Things and Sound of the Underground, read by the artist.

Reading, East London Cable poetry session, Raven Row, London, 2019

'This new work by Lucie McLaughlin traces the outline of a day, where moments are arranged, ungraduated (and sometimes unreal) as they close down physical spaces. Punctums of dialect from the artist's native Belfast remind how words can break, re-position and be repaired, depending on the site we see them from. Here, Belfast is viewed from a great distance and through the lens of relentless Madrid sunshine, where lingering sensations of horror and unease are felt.'

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Bonfire, HD Video with sound, 9 minutes 40 seconds, with music composed by Arthuritis. 2019

Screened at Killing Stillness, SET, Dalston (alongside works by Miriam Kilpatrick, Chris Penty, Buster and Josh Grey-Jung)

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The sound is the next feeling.

The Kink in The Arc  is a collective, dream novel. Invited writers, artists and curators contribute a description of an artwork in any form, these descriptions are then ‘sited’ within the context of the novel. You can read my contribution here    2019


The light is failing slightly, dimming, becoming more cool (the white of the duvet looks blue.) As the light fails, a tableaux appears on the wall opposite. In silhouette: the window's edge, it's handle out-turned to the air. The lamp's half moon head, metal pronged bedstead, balustrade's end. A frame, the frame of these four things, perfectly flat, to make a feeling. Enacting the slowness of the abstract.

Quietest, (essay/poetry) Faultline Journal of Arts and Letters, University of California, Irvine, 2018. Digital reading, Stories Books and Cafes, Los Angeles, 2018

don't you think maybe the end, poetry, A queer anthology of rage, Pilot Press, 2018

The blue strip of fabric; diaphanous, hung on two nails, the curtain that hovers next to the bed. It’s threadbare countenance washes the room in oceanic glow. There are many nights facing this same colour, coming in floods repeated in each stanza, stood there, burrowing into the neck of the poem and quietly soaking or outside the house the low stone wall is gasping for air.

a dark place is not a dark place, reading, Sylvia Plath: Letters, Words and Fragments conference, Ulster University Belfast, organised by Dr Maeve O'Brien, 2017

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Slime, poetry, AQNB, 2017

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snakes velvet legs too bright go to bed state sponsored accidents in the dark - crippled sheets little birds and leaves the sun the rising moon - sperm - stiff limbs blazing sick her claws sagely counsel big curls of soggy bacon the welt of the pool

Bad Ideas, edited by Lucie McLaughlin, 2017, includes image and text work by sixteen artists based between London, Paris and Belfast.

shivers of disconsolate fear // from my elbows to my wrists in twitches // which shift the leopard print spots // of my long sleeved vest

their eyes are glass and face a flush intoxicated mess // of smudged holes and short brown hairs // mottled paint with stains and grease marks // where the primer didn't do it's job // it's hard to keep our glowering round this garden bend // since amidst the mauve-ish glow // there are moving manmade stars of bright pink // and cobalt blue that sail across the window blinds // of the party house inside

Lick, 2017, artist book, 14 x 20 cm, perfect bound, edition of 50


Sound and performance project; apparatus for live performance, installation plan, 10 track compact disc, documentation of a performance in Lily Robert Gallery, Paris. Also performed at Nottingham New Theatre and Central Saint Martins, London.

Fragments of improvised tonic chords and noise connect a shared poetics where the auditory capital is rooted in the process of DIY recording, recognising and reinterpreting, in a contemporary setting, the input by female identifying artists to sound based installation, which is often overlooked. "duo Lucie McLaughlin and Eleanor Strong can be found performing tracks from their debut album Sad Party. They have assembled a space, a re-presentation of their bedroom-studio, informal but complete with keyboards and microphones all set up for the two to play and work throughout the show’s duration. The duo connect a low-fi, actively non-professional, performance with honest and expressive voices."

Sad Party, 2017

Lucie McLaughlin and Eleanor Strong

Belfast and Berlin, 'how cool is this? are you hearing the weird sounds? haha. yeah.' I am in the kitchen at night, the windows open skywards on their lofty incline. The ashtray is large and heavy. I talk a lot.


she tries to regain her breath, HD video with sound, 6 minutes, 2017

with guitar and voice by Eleanor Strong

luciejmclaughlin [at]                              instagram                                twitter