Tom Hackett, 'Table Dog Ball'. An oversized, absurd table football pole with yellow silicone dogs skewered together in place of miniature human forms kicking a ball. The piece remembers the site as a previous place of play as a former golf driving range, drawing on the ghosts of ball games gone by. Tom presents this piece as a game you cannot play, with no goal and no ball. Suggesting purpose, offering play, but simultaneously witholding and denying it.

Alexis Bamforth, 'Table: what's on your plate?' Alexis brings the ground to the table, raising the earth beneath it and revealing the segmented hollow left behind. A space both familiar and unfamiliar, it prompts the question, who will it be hosting? Are we the guests, or are there others already present? Soil, roots, microbes and rock fragments are present here, sustaining and shaping us. A quiet exchange across unfolds across, within and through the table - of matter, of histories, of shared resources. Table: What's on your plate? is a meeting place, a conversation between worlds seen and unseen.

Tom Witherick, 'Rope Swing'. Tom's practice indulges in fantasies; love affairs with fictional characters; magic rituals for reliving one’s youth; organic explosive devices for rewilding urban environments. Here, Tom takes inspiration from the Rococo style popular in 18th Century Europe and most notably, Jean-Honoré Fragonard’s painting 'The Swing' (1767). Rococo saw artists favouring more intimate mythological scenes, idyllic pastoral imagery, and light-hearted depictions of pleasure-seeking, a frivolous reaction to the formality of the earlier Baroque and Enlightenment periods. Fragonard's salacious painting can be seen as a perfect example of this departure, with the swing taking centre stage. Following on from Fragonard Tom's swing is a recreation of this scene in the modern world, set in the wake of the past calling on the memories of play within the former driving range space and looking out amongst the naturally rewilded world 258 years on.

Jill Laudet, 'Decent Homes for All'. Based on the Thamesmead legacy, Jill has made a timely monument to the post-war aspirations of ‘decent homes for all’. A reflection on the Thamesmead Archive and the history and shaping of what was seen as the residential 'utopia' that surrounds us within the former golf course. The piece is a monument of reflection to the building of community throughout Thamesmead and its past, present and future residents.

Lorrain Mailer, 'I will huff and I will puff'. A gleaming, elevated tiny house standing on steel legs wrapped in cascading compact discs that shimmer like scales. A construction that comments wryly on the design of housing today; is it fit for flooding? For extreme heat? For climate disaster? Stand inside and view glimpse of the CD era: a relic of consumer culture now polluting landfills. Lorrain uses this work to question the potential of discarded materials hold within everygrowing climate concern. Aptly placed within the flood planes of the Thames.

Claye Bowler, 'Over my dead body'. Claye's practice attempts to preserve aspects and fragments of human existence through the collection of objects, data and imagery. His sculptural practice focuses on the collection and documentation of experiences and memories, using his work to highlight stories that are not historically collected through institutional means, observing and creating an image of humanity's lived experience through a lens of queerness and disability.

Jeremy Wyatt, 'In search of everything I need'. A manifestation of Jeremy's childhood fantasy of escape; a floating safe haven above the ground. It is a meditation on the desire to seek refuge at any age, to retreat from the world we have created, and then to reflect, create and share in order to better enter it once again. Often creating spaces of exploration, Jeremy builds climate conscious spaces of play both in his art practice and in his business making experimental playgrounds for children.

Elliot Macdonald, 'Pillar of the Community'. Our cultural institutions are often made by hands that feel unwelcome. And the craftsmanship of the unnamed maker is left unsaid. Elliot Macdonald is shining a light on the unnamed maker through his use of everyday materials to create structures and moments that confront the grandiose, presenting an alternative by detaching the work from the pomp and power it’s used to evoke. Well aligned with the ambitions of WINTER SCULPTURE PARK, Elliot's column is a wry comment on the blocades that can make visitors feel so unwelcome in these institutions.

Maja Novak, 'Body Vessel'. Maja Novak uses the limitations of her materials to question the limitations of being human. She kneads and stretches tensile forms from unexpecting materials, and places them amongst nature to explore how they will adapt amongst changing ecologies. Connected with the landscape, these shapes both lose their functions, and accrue new ones. Pots may contain while emptying, forms may both grasp and loosen. Dis-order becomes apparent, a new ecosystem of function, purpose and form evolving. Much like the human body, changing with every breath.

Marcus Orlandi, 'Don't Fight'. Marcus Orlandi steals from high brow and low brow cultures, confronting each with eachother. Flitting with the ease of a channel change between 1960’s conceptual performance art and WWE professional wrestling, Marcus sets new stakes for what is believed and what is true. Through this practice he is exposing the influence and omnipotence of catchy slogans and hyperbolic tabloid headlines. This work is reminiscent of the artist's own walks in the area, finding piece following tensions appearing in his own life.