“Their sheer size was stunning. He pulled out his earphones and stuffed them back in his pocket. There were between twelve and fifteen of them, he guessed, standing erect on slender dinosaur legs. The closest turkey was looking at him with beady eyes that seemed to both see and not see him. Alexander dared not move, for what seemed like minutes, until the turkey ruffled its breast feathers, dropped its foreleg, and led the group around him like a procession - like a line of mourners.”

“As they passed, he noted their shape and scale; how the plumage was divided into sections, each with its own patterning and style. Some parts tessellated, like the fretting on ancient samurai armour; other parts sported markings you might see on a big cat, or a dinosaur. These were ancient creatures, and they prowled amongst the gravestones like guardians of the dead. He pulled out his phone and began to film.”

“The birds circled him in wide arcs to his left and right, and then they continued round and began to circle him again. Round and round they went, eyeing him from tilted heads, squawking softly.  What kind of primordial ritual was this? He remembered seeing videos of turkeys circling dead animals on the internet, weird funeral marches around dead cats, rats, roadkill.”

“‘The name turkey has been unfairly smeared. There’s nothing comical or stupid about you.’ A quick Google search told him that the Latin name was Meleagris, and he said out loud, ‘I will call you Meleagris.’ These Meleagris were a perfect subject for his work - they continued a bird theme which he had established through previous projects in London, Incheon and Berlin, but they were also specific to America. Most of all, he knew exactly how he would sculpt them.”