[12] Price was nominated for the 2012 Turner Prize for her solo exhibition 'HERE' at the Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art in Gateshead, where three video works were displayed: User Group Disco (2009), The Choir (2012) and West Hinder (2012).

Price was also a founding member of the never recorded, all girl group ‘The Katherines of Arrogance’ which included Amelia Fletcher and Eithne Farry of Talulah Gosh along with Jo Johnson (subsequently) of riot grrrl band Huggy Bear.

While Price’s art emerged from conceptualism, institutional critique and an interest in social histories, archives and collections, her video-work is a radical departure from the visual styles and rhetorics usually associated with these movements and subject matters.

Part of this can be attributed to Price’s view that the established visual modes of critical art had become moribund, and were exercises in deferent revivalism; but also because the digital was rapidly and profoundly altering how we encounter historical knowledge.

'[19] ‘Price’s work induces… sensations of not only being inside a space or pictorial illusion, but of being in entire systems of thoughts and ideas that are forming and acting in the present tense.’ [20] Single-channel video, 20 minutes duration At The House of Mr X takes as its subject the preserved modernist home, and art/design collections of a deceased cosmetics mogul.

The narration - which is provided as a silent, on-screen rolling graphic is derived from various archival materials associated with the history of the house, including architectural specifications; curatorial inventories and the point-of-sale literature for various cosmetics products.

Flashing over lascivious interior shots, a story of sensual inhabitation is developed as these cosmetics product descriptions - 'Jacobean shade', 'soft-centre candy floss’, 'starkers glow' - are gradually applied to the polished finishes of the house itself, as though it were a face.

In the final section, following these transformative temptations of 'pearlise' and 'time-machinery', the viewer is invited to physically blend themselves with the liquid veneers of the house: 'Make silvery gold & viscous trails / A delightful decor/ of lustrous puddles[ ... ] To bloom on the lovely surface.

Cheap but extraordinarily decadent artefacts such as pet-food dispensers and necktie-storage systems are rotated, suspended and animated in front of the camera, whilst a series of quotes taken from theoretical texts on art, corporate management and taxonomy, as well as excerpts from gothic and magic-realist literature are cut together to imagine the creation and inauguration of a museum to hold them.

"[18] Tamara Trodd makes similar observations in an Art History essay (2019): "By materialising the idea of the objects possessing a hidden life, and having them appear to dance, Price’s playful anthropomorphism conjures up exhilarated responses in us.

[39] Single-channel video, 13 minutes duration The Woolworths Choir of 1979 combines, in three well-differentiated parts, a syncopated succession of archive material in an apparently dissonant composition: a textual-visual research into the architectural typology of British Gothic church choirs; fragments of videos culled from internet showing backing vocalists for pop groups; and TV news footage of a fire in the furniture department at Woolworths in Manchester in 1979, in which 10 employees lost their lives…[40] A step-by-step guide to ecclesiastical architecture, illustrated by archival photographs, diagrams and arcane terminology is gradually interrupted by distorted footage of the sinuous movements of various girl bands, like ghostly apparitions from another world.

This "we" is a common thread in Price’s videos; the we of her earlier User Group Disco (2009) is the human resources department of an undefined museum of twentieth-century refuse, serving as mouthpieces for the theories of Theodor Adorno and management expert Henry Mintzberg.

[58] It bears the stylistic hallmarks of Price’s video work: digitized archival footage and CGI form a visual montage narrated through text and sometimes a computerized voice, usually coded to sound female.

In conversation with Dominic Paterson, the Hunterian’s curator of contemporary art, she described her own emotional entanglement with the library in general, which dates to her childhood, as something deeply invested in their status as civic buildings, as something exemplary of the generosity of the state: a place to read books and listen to records, for free.

Plunging down, through radiant digital (i.e. computer- generated) renderings of the ostensibly flat textile designs — ”through the flora and foliage, the petals and the leaves ... the rhizomes, and rhizoids, and rhizines” — we hone in on the next dynamic layer of UNDERFOOT’s complex: the loom, its multi-color scan lines, and, crucially, the workers (almost always women) who operate it.

And it’s here that the video cartwheels and ends, in a charged, poetic gesture that tilts our gaze up toward the looping chain of spools passing above the worker, forming a new “abundant and empty” garden in the ceiling — the implications of which are left in ominous suspension.