I’m Chelsea Mildenhall, an artist from Birmingham and a recent Fine Art graduate from Birmingham City University. Working across sculpture, performance, video and installation, I explore the relationship between the body, technology and identity. My practice examines cyberisation, looking at how technology and social systems become entangled with human identity, shaping our behaviour, desires and perceptions of femininity. Through fragmented materials, bodily remnants and disrupted technological objects, I investigate the lasting effects these systems leave behind and how they influence our understanding of ourselves.
looking at how technology and social systems become entangled with human identity, shaping our behaviour, desires and perceptions of femininity
Making art is such a huge part of who I am that I don't think you can really separate yourself from it. My work often begins with personal experiences or observations, which I explore through a mix of sincerity and satire. I'm interested in that uncomfortable space where something can be funny but also painfully recognisable.
Sometimes, I don't fully understand what I'm trying to express until I've made the work and can step back from it. That process can be uncomfortable, but it's also what makes making art so valuable to me. My practice continues to evolve as I discover new ways of approaching the ideas that interest me.
That process can be uncomfortable, but it's also what makes making art so valuable to me
I've been making art for as long as I can remember. As a child, I had a huge collection of sketchbooks and, for some reason, was obsessed with drawing cartoon pandas. Art was the first thing at school I felt genuinely good at and passionate about. I used to skip certain lessons and sneak off to the art classroom to talk to my teacher and make work I actually cared about, so I think that says a lot!
I used to skip certain lessons and sneak off to the art classroom to talk to my teacher and make work I actually cared about
Art also runs in my family, and my nan has been a huge inspiration. She never had the opportunity to pursue a career in the arts herself, which makes following my own path feel even more meaningful. Ultimately, art gave me a space to express myself freely, without fear of being judged. That freedom to explore myself has remained important to my practice as it has developed.
I think I secretly hate her!
Belle was an alter ego I created to explore external expectations, inspired by the cottagecore aesthetic I kept seeing on social media. I think I secretly hate her! The platinum blonde wig came from the phrase “blondes have more fun”, but I found the whole thing ridiculous. A few months ago, I actually dyed my hair platinum blonde to see what it would feel like. I hated it and dyed it back to brown. There's a lot of irony in that!
What started as satire became more personal, exploring masking, social adaptation and the pressure to become someone others find acceptable. Eventually, the boundaries between Belle and me became blurred. I began questioning whether I was challenging the sexualisation of femininity or reinforcing it through my own work. I realised that representing something critically doesn't necessarily mean you're separate from it, and that the relationship between intention and interpretation is more complicated than I initially thought.
Eventually, the boundaries between Belle and me became blurred. I began questioning whether I was challenging the sexualisation of femininity or reinforcing it
I don't regret making Belle because the project taught me a lot about myself and pushed me to question my own practice. I've since decided to move away from performing alter egos, but the questions Belle raised continue to influence my work in different ways.
It started with me performing as Belle in the studio. My tutor later suggested performing her live at the School of Art in collaboration with Prayer Room Gallery, inspired by the banner “No one's watching, do something”. So, I gave it a go! One of my favourite performances was Failing Integration, which I presented during my degree show. The work explored identity, performed femininity and technological control, with B-01, formerly known as Belle, being plugged into a system by an “Integration Specialist”. Combining latex sculptures, circuit boards, video and live performance, I explored what happens when the body is forced to conform to an artificial system. Performance has allowed me to explore these ideas in a direct, physical way, bringing together the body, materials and technology. Although I'm moving away from performing alter egos, I'm still interested in performance as part of my wider practice, alongside sculpture, video and installation.
B-01, formerly known as Belle, being plugged into a system by an “Integration Specialist”
After graduating, I've been finding my feet outside university and building a routine around my studio at Grand Union. Having a space to develop my work independently, while staying connected to Birmingham's creative community, has been valuable. It's been a big adjustment, but also an exciting one.
I've also been selected as a Venice Fellow, representing Birmingham School of Art at the British Pavilion during the 2026 Venice Biennale. I'm incredibly excited about the opportunity, although naturally there's some pressure that comes with it. Initially, I tried to develop an idea that would bring my existing work to Venice, but it didn't feel right. I realised I was trying to make the experience fit my practice rather than allowing myself to respond to it naturally. Instead, I want to document Venice in a new way and give myself space to experiment.
I'm learning that developing as an artist isn't always about producing more work or having a clear plan. Sometimes it's about giving yourself the freedom to explore something new. I'm excited to see where that takes me.
I realised I was trying to make the experience fit my practice rather than allowing myself to respond to it naturally.
Pushing myself out of my comfort zone has led to some amazing experiences. Networking is a good example, although it's horrible, especially when you have anxiety! Sometimes you just have to push through that initial discomfort. Say yes to opportunities! My mum definitely drilled this into my brain, and I'm glad she did.
Making artwork can sometimes feel like a chore, and the burnout is real! Don't feel guilty about taking time to rest; sometimes stepping away is exactly what you need.
Most importantly, stop putting so much pressure on yourself after graduation. There's no set timeline for where you should be or what you should be doing. You don't have to prove yourself through every opportunity or have everything figured out straight away. Keep making work, trust your instincts, and give yourself a bit of grace along the way.
Trust your instincts and stay authentic to yourself. Don't be afraid to make work that exposes something personal; sometimes that's where the most interesting things happen. But remember that staying true to yourself doesn't mean staying the same. You're allowed to change your mind, question your work and move in a different direction.
But remember that staying true to yourself doesn't mean staying the same. You're allowed to change your mind, question your work and move in a different direction.
And don't let people who don't support you discourage you, including family members who ask, “What are you going to do with an art degree?” If I had a pound for every time I've been asked that, I'd be a millionaire by now! You don't have to understand someone's ambitions to support them. If you're passionate about something, trust yourself and keep going.
I studied at Central Saint Martins in London when I turned eighteen, and it was a difficult experience. I remember worrying about what moving back home to Birmingham would mean for my future in the arts. It was my tutor who introduced me to the creative community in Digbeth and helped me realise there was a future for me back home, too.
Working at Eastside Projects during university allowed me to become part of that community and develop as an artist. There's sometimes an assumption that you need to be in London to succeed in the arts, but Birmingham has shown me otherwise. The people and opportunities I've found here have shaped my journey, and having a creative community around me has been especially important as I've navigated life after graduation. Birmingham will always be home to me.