Oliver Payne and Nick Relph's current work on show in London is a video installation. The space is divided by a screen around which there is a passage on either side. Images, perhaps culled from an array of digital sources, are cut noiselessly together and back-projected, appearing as a distracted sequence of anomalies. In front of the screen a grid of smooth, shallow, circular disks obscures a large percentage of the screen's area. These disks are, otherwise, somewhat indeterminate in their nature and references, but might be associated with corporate signage. The steel support on which they are fixed, is not unlike the studding that has been used to construct the gallery's temporary walls.

Another video projector throws an image onto the front of the screen too, and causes the grid of circles, gradually, to change colour, as if they are lit from within, mutating from pink, to blue, to green, while the other narrative glimpsed in fragments between, makes its mute progress.

*

In a post office, on a characterless morning in February, a queue of people stands. But a man enters and distinguishes himself from the others with body-language that seems inclined towards contact - towards conversation. In fact, he is already speaking - not to any one in particular, but to all. And some turn, judging that while they may not want to catch his eye, any reaction that could be interpreted as hostile is unwise.

It becomes clear that, despite his penetrating tone, this man is of no immediate danger. The sense of his communication is interrupted; there is another scene superimposing itself over the one of his immediate perception, which he must describe. And in doing so the names of various hair-care products are offered, seemingly at random, and with an insistence of tone that can only testify to the clarity with which they are presenting themselves to him.

*

To think about the meaning of a colour results in the nothing but the blind repetition of its name.

Green. Green. Green.