What a pleasure it is to spend an hour in the company of Christopher Dobrowolski. There was a small group of us for his hour-long PowerPoint journey, and this intimacy felt like a classic festival find; a secret performance just for us…

Dobrowolski’s car sits outside the Hunt and Darton cafe – a 1967 Triumph Herald Estate, and the subject of All Roads Lead to Rome. The car is older than Dobrowolski himself – his father bought it as soon as his mother became pregnant with him – and he shows us the pictures to prove it. He’s attached to this car, to the idea of it having grown up with him, his brother and his parents. Last year he began fixing it up and had the idea to trace its roots. And so, with a little bit of cash from the Arts Council (part of the PowerPoint!) he and his girlfriend headed to Rome in the Triumph to track down the son of the maker of said car.

As in all good road-movies, the journey takes on a life of its own, veering off-course to reveal fresh insights into Dobrowolski’s relationship with his father. It allows him to retrace steps his father took whilst fighting in World War Two, including an ‘encounter’ with Mussolini. Turns out his dad was in the square in which Mussolini was hung, which now plays host to a variety of shops dedicated to fascist memorabilia and knick-knacks. And so Dubrowolski’s gentle tale suddenly finds itself intertwined in a reflection on war, men, children, fascism and how we relate to what’s come before us.

Much like his fascinating installations (two of which are on show in the bar next door), the performance has been lovingly pieced together photograph by photograph, word by word and home-movie by home-movie – resulting in a warm and cosy hour of simple but affecting storytelling.