The woman in the photographs always looks as if she might be somewhere in the 1970s. It’s the frisson given off by the furniture around her, or by the strange surroundings of some Brutalist art-park or forest clearing. Who is this well-dressed enigma at the center of the picture, looking you dead in the eye? The exterior of the Victorian-era buildingThings begin to make complete autobiographical sense when Scott opens her door. At first sight, there’s a vertical view of dark green walls, soaring up beneath the apex of a Victorian-era industrial light-filled roof.