Ever since Medina Hammad was able to break free of the constraints of her art school education, she has, within her work, concerned herself with issues centred on the complexities of her identity. Looking at her work, both her most recent paintings, exhibited here, and her work produced over the past ten years or so, we can see, over and over again, implicit and explicit references to her identity as a British woman, living in the late 20th century, born of a Sudanese father and an English mother.

But whilst such references may be a consistent feature of Medina's work, we can see, equally as clearly, distinctly evolutionary processes within her painting and drawing. In earlier bodies of her work, humour was constantly deployed. As one commentator eloquently noted (regarding Medina's work) "humour is what one finds". The work that prompted such a comment largely consisted of studies of decorated interiors and were often bright and gaudy depiction’s of equally bright and gaudy objects, much loved by (and consequently, symbolic of), her father. As Medina herself recollected "I was brought up in surroundings where plaster cupids frolicked, lamp shade pom-poms shook and the Mona Lisa, framed in moulded gold plastic, smiled at me from every quarter. My father spent more time in John Lewis soft furnishings department than he did with me and my sister."

The next, clearly-identifiable body of work again explored, in fresh and fascinating ways, her identity as the daughter of a Sudanese Arab father and the dual senses of cultural identification and detachment that this identity brought with it. Painting from drawings that were in turn drawn from memory, Medina produced a set of paintings that showed Gulf Arabs occupying hotel rooms in Park Lane, London. As the artist herself wrote, the paintings "relate to my experiences as a chamber-maid in Park Lane. Every summer, Gulf Arabs in their droves, would occupy large sections of the hotel. What struck me most clearly, was that more than any other nationality, they would impress themselves upon the space. Rooms were permanently dark and perfumed, beds slept on, not in, chairs ignored. These groups of women rarely went out. They would sit or lie, sewing, making their own tea, chattering - completely oblivious to violent 'in-house' videos and young cleaning women. They were totally at odds with their surroundings and yet very comfortable within them. Their identity shone through."

We might be tempted to view these paintings as simply the interesting observations of an artist with an unusual eye and a gifted drawing ability, allowing us an insight into her father's domestic environment and the closed, private and (quite literally) guarded world of wealthy Gulf Arabs. But there was much much more to this work . Within these paintings, she had found unusual, fascinating ways of exploring what it meant for her to be born of a Sudanese father and an English mother. She experienced Sudanese/Arab culture in a multiplicity of ways that were as complex as they were simple - through the spectacle of her father's plaster cupids, or through the spectacle of Arab women, making tea on the floor of a plush hotel room carpet. And more importantly, Medina, through her work, was able to establish an intelligent and respectful proximity between herself and her 'Sudanese' heritage. Within this work, Medina was expressing "a desire to observe and understand" her Sudanese/English background.

Until recently, portrayals of her family has all been drawn from her contact with them in this country and during the course of a visit to family relatives in Washington DC. As Medina herself commented, rather ruefully, "I never seem to meet [them] in their own country." But this was not so much a case of dislocation as relocation. Medina's Sudanese relatives carried with them a cultural heritage that confidently and playfully manifested itself in countries and environments far removed from their native Sudan. The artist may have been happy to continually understand and explore Sudanese culture (and her 'Sudanese' side) through her migrated relatives. But in 1995 she was invited to exhibit in Khartoum, the Sudanese capital and it was this invitation that enabled her to explore and understand Sudan directly, whilst simultaneously offering fresh and new understandings of her father's paradoxical life as someone "too Arab to be English, [yet] too English to ever be completely Sudanese again." New opportunities to understand her father meant new opportunities to make greater sense of her own life, her own history and her own identity. The work exhibited here is a direct result of that 1995 visit.

The trip to Sudan had a profound influence on Medina and her work. By and large, the humour of her earlier work has gone. In its place we can detect a range of visual motifs and devices that represent Medina's response to and her reflections on, her visit to Sudan. Within this work we are privileged to witness the multiple convergencies of different elements of the artist's life, her history and her identity. In some paintings, images from her childhood share pictorial spaces with memories and impressions of Sudan. These are beautiful, haunting and poignant paintings. In other work, she delights in remembering gestures of welcome and of hospitality.

One of the most profound works in this new series is 'Crocodile" I (Souvenir?) Looking at this painting, it would be difficult to imagine a greater contrast to Medina's earlier work. For the painting, She has used a restricted range of colours and in so doing, has produced a sobering work that potently articulates some of the ways in which she remembers (or has made sense of) her visit. Against an almost ominous, sombre background of washed blue, Medina has painted a menacing crocodile - "a gift in difficult circumstances" as she poetically and tactfully describes it. Its jaws open, the crocodile reveals a vicious set of teeth. The model was a present from Sudan, foisted on her as a parting souvenir. But whilst tourist crocodiles are often loveable creatures, this one appears almost aggressive and menacing. She has placed the crocodile on top of a plinth and the animal casts an almost nightmarish shadow across the entirety of the canvas. She described why she constructed such a stark depiction. "When I got back, I put it [the crocodile] on top of the bookcase and lit it from underneath...and it struck me, the more I looked at this object over a year, that actually the crocodile was a symbol for some of the difficult aspects of the trip."

But whilst certain aspects of her visit may have thrown into harsh contrast the differences between her life in Lincoln and her life in Khartoum, she also encountered pleasant, reassuring welcomes that established simple friendships. 'Gesture' depicts a Sudanese man whose parting, fleeting gesture consisted of him placing his hand across his chest, onto his heart. In its simplicity, the painting resonates with respect and affection.

Gallery audiences will find no shortage of entry points when looking at this work. Some may look at these paintings and consider the work to be 'about' Medina. But others, perhaps being more perceptive, will see within this work mechanisms and devices that will prompt them to look afresh at their own lives. After all, this work gives us the opportunity to re-examine ourselves, as much as it gives us an insight into the artist's life. As Medina Hammad herself has concluded "My painting is my catharsis - self exploratory work does not often form a conclusion, more of a realisation of simply how things are."

Dr Eddie Chambers 1998