The Buffalo that could not Dream - Felix von der Osten
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Credit: Felix von der Osten ID: A young boy dressed in tribal attire is holding an axe. Feathers are in his head dress and colourful prints and patterns adorn their light brown outfit.
Set on the Fort Belknap Indian Reservation, home to two Native American tribes, German photography Felix von der Osten produced a body of work exploring how Native American's live and how they have been treated over the years by the American government. Through the Appropriations Act of 1851, implemented by the US Government, Native Tribes, often long enemies have been flung into the same location to co exist, breaking centuries of tradition and history.
Wanting to challenge the aesthetic of how we perceive Native Americans and "Cowboys and Indians' as children, Felix's work breaks down the stereotypes to create a beautiful, troubling and powerful body of work. By breaking down our initial perceptions and giving a glimpse of daily life and reality, The Buffalo that could not Dream is a poignant body of work on how native people are treated and live in their homelands, now controlled by foreign settlers.
Credit: Felix von der Osten ID: Inside someone's house, a chest of draws with piles of clothes on top. Along the walls family photographs and trinkets of personal and cultural importance hang off the edge of the frames.
Credit: Felix von der Osten ID: A native american woman stands with her hair platted on both sides. She is wearing a brown jacket with a warm fleece lining. Her hands are held together and behind her are rolling hills.
Credit: Felix von der Osten ID: A father is sitting in the drivers seat of a car with a baby wrapped in blankets sits on his lap. A skull gear stick and other cars can be seen outside the drivers window.
Credit: Felix von der Osten ID: Three children sit on a upturned sofa. On the left a boy is holding up a blue book with a white circle object rests on his side. The boys to his left stare down the camera at us.
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Credit: Dason Pettit ID: A yellow stained map with colourful squares and a red route through the land can be seen.
A rare woodpecker, the communities looking for it and the history of the American south, photographer Dason Pettit explores these unique connections through his investigative project Scattered Feathers.
What wanted you to produce the project Scattered Feathers? I was searching for a legend to explore that would parallel my own existential crisis, one that could mirror the fear and wonder of life. I stumbled upon a copy of The Grail Bird by Tim Gallagher, and found his devotion to the search for the Ivory-billed Woodpecker, which the majority of ornithologists thought to be extinct, drew me into the world of birdwatchers. After that I started researching the small town of Tallulah, Louisiana where the Ivory-billed Woodpecker had been spotted last and found it to be a place that fascinated me. Initially rising with a surge of industry the town fell into disarray when natural resources dwindled and the railroads carrying these goods fell into disuse. It reminded me of the small town in the Delta where I had grown up and the people who raised me there. I really enjoyed spending time wandering through the woods and the town, and I was enthralled by the science of ornithology. So those topics became the focus of my project.
Credit: Dason Pettit ID: A professor sits in a blue checkered shirt in their office. They are white haired with a moustache and glasses.
Credit: Dason Pettit ID: A pile of books alongside an open book that depicts silhouettes of birds, each has a number alongside each species.
The project follows the story of the Ivory Billed Woodpecker, can you tell me more about this species' connection to the communities it lives near? The most obvious connection between the community and the Ivory-billed Woodpecker is the Singer Mill, the lumberyard responsible for so much of the clear cutting of the hardwood forest that was the species’ habitat. Their presence was the spark that ended up devastating the land that the bird so depended upon. There’s an irony in the fact that forest lumber was the foundation of this grand and proud small southern town and that the depletion of those resources led to the town’s downfall. The bird and Tallulah are inextricably linked as both followed a downward spiral over the course of the last century; the synthesis that formed between the bird and the town became a point of focus in the work. I found that many of the old buildings reminded me of the husks that woodpeckers had used as homes; their decaying facades mirrored that of the ravaged trees. Likewise, I found connections between the bird and the people that I met in Tallulah. Many were desperate for the old grandeur while others continued to inhabit the remains of the town. When I met a young man on the street, he immediately struck a pose for the camera that was reminiscent of a bird. That kind of synchronicity is what I’m so often looking for in my work.
Credit: Dason Pettit ID: A dead bird is being dissected by two hands with its wings stretched out upon a surgical tray. Scissors and tweezers and white powder can be seen around the persons hands.
Credit: Dason Pettit ID: Two dead birds laying upon a grey surface.
Photography and birdwatching have a few things in common, from the waiting for the right moment to having patience and slowing down time. Was this relation something you considered when making the work? I definitely thought about the parallels between these two, even more so as I observed more and more of what birdwatching entails. I made excursions with several groups of birdwatchers and began to identify the activity as a metaphor for the act of seeing, especially within photography. I started to practice not just birdwatching, but nature observance in general as I spent more time in the forest. For me, seeing with a camera becomes something just shy of a spiritual experience. I suspect that this is the case for many photographers and I wanted to find a way to express this feeling. Birdwatching became that visual statement. I identified with all the prep work and waiting that went into what the birdwatchers are doing and I think in the end gathering so much joy just seeing the world through a lens is something that we both share in common. By concentrating on the roles of these individuals in the narrative, rather than their personal histories, I enhance the mythical quality of the work. I engage with the birdwatchers here as “’characters” in an allegorical framework. Considered in this sense, these birdwatchers become proxies for myself and my experience in hunting not just for the bird, but also for the right photograph.
Credit: Dason Pettit ID: A murky river with large vegetation on each side. In the background large wooden structures can be seen obscured by trees.
The photographs toe the line between the human and animal and our relationship with the wild. Can you tell me a little bit about the people and their investment in spotting the bird? While many people have helped to communicate this story, John Fitzpatrick and Geneva Williams are central to the narrative. John is the director at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology in Ithaca, New York. Stoic and reserved with glasses and a robust mustache, it is hard to imagine him as the leader of the team that in 2004 obtained footage that they say verifies the bird’s existence. They continue to spend precious research dollars, invest massive amounts of personal time, and put their reputations on the line to verify their initial findings. While John registers little of the excitement he must feel as he shows his blurry footage, his grandfatherly like pride and his scholarly nature assures on that you are seeing images of the Ghost Bird. And explains why he is responsible for much of the continued interest in the bird. While many respected ornithologists are sure that the species is extinct, John is an icon whose belief keeps hope alive in others. Helping to keep the story of Tallulah alive, on the other hand, is Geneva. Nearly 100, she remembers the virgin forest and the Ivory-billed Woodpecker and she is intimately involved with the history of the town. Geneva and John Martin run Hermione House, a local museum that is focused on curating the town’s remarkably rich history that includes the first indoor mall in the US, and a WW2 POW camp. As her physical abilities wane, her greatest concern is that the museum remains open for all to see when others seek to profit from selling its relics. I see John and Geneva as mythic figures, the father and mother of this story.
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Whilst nature is breathtakingly beautiful, it can also be dangerous and unstable. Chiara Zonca explores these two opposing elements of nature in her series It Devours, shot in New Zealand’s North Island. The juxtaposition of the immaculate beaches and mountains with the barren landscapes and signs of natural destruction challenge the viewers perception of beauty and danger in the natural world.
Zonca really captures the surreal and haunting beauty of this landscape. Showing somewhere that seems magical, unfamiliar and out of our reach. It Devours is both strikingly beautiful and dreamy, whilst tinged in danger and fear or the power and potency of nature. A place almost prehistoric in the modern world. In Zonca’s own words, “an unfamiliar environment hiding a dark, dangerous past that eventually draws you in with a mixture of reverence and utter fear.”
ID: A Mountain across a lake with red grass in foreground. Tree branches occupy the top of the image as we look out across the water.
Chiara Zonca, It Devours ID: A blurry image of orange vegetation mixed with green leaves and plants.
Chiara Zonca, It Devours ID: Tree's cover the image as we look out onto a blue still lake.
Chiara Zonca, It Devours ID: A mountain peaks above green reeds. The sun is casting its glow across the mountain.
Chiara Zonca, It Devours ID: A mountain top can be seen in the background with a cliff and rocks of another mountain is in the foreground.
Chiara Zonca, It Devours ID: A sunset looking out across the water from behind ferns and palm leaves.
Words: Sophie Turrell
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Credit: The Docklands Project - Agency Sem Langendijk ID: A young white woman with a large nose piericing sits looking down the camera. Here head, arm and shoulders are visible. She is wearing a vest top and her hair is cut like a mullet on top with dreadlocks hanging across the front of her body.
The Docklands Project by Sem Langendijk is an immersive photo project which explores communities who live near water sources. Taking inspiration from his childhood and pairing locations based on their history and current trajectory, The Docklands Project explores our relationship to cities and their place in society.
The Docklands Project currently covers 3 locations showing different types of cultures near water sources. What was the driving force behind making the work?
I grew up in a former railroad station, where cargo from ships was loaded onto trains. After the building lost its original function, people started to build self-constructed homes there, as the city had no use or plan for the area. As this area became a development site in the late 90’s, I moved further into the harbours of Amsterdam, and living there has had a profound impact on my view on cities. My initial motivation to start the project was to document appropriation of space in the docklands of Amsterdam. These kind of areas, and the communities that live there, are under pressure as the city is rapidly taking back its fringes and developing them. When I decided to extend the project, to more cities, I conducted my further research in those docklands, using this as a perimeter for the work. These environments I ended up photographing, share a similar history, although the current conditions are quite different.
What was the lure to go and document people squatting in the disused docks in Amsterdam?
I didn’t find any photography from where I grew up that captured the identity of that place, as a document. I felt it would have a personal value for me to photograph these kind of places and communities. The ADM, which I was familiar with, resonated with the memories I had from my childhood. A place where people deliberately chose to live in certain conditions, because they felt they had more freedom, build things, and not be forced into the constructed idea of a home or city. The fact that they squatted the land, was not really relevant for my point of view at that time, although it does matter for the bigger story as it gives insight in the limited options people have to live this way.
Credit: The Docklands Project - Agency Sem Langendijk ID: A young boy is standing on a table in a back yard with vegetation behind him. He has odd socks on and sunlight is dappled across his clothes.
The work feels meditative and calm, is there a connection from your past which helped you relate and connect with the people and place?
Working in this area was very interesting for me. I did connect with the people, although I never really felt like I was there to document their lives. The work was very meditative for myself, as I encountered things that resembled memories from my childhood. There was a nostalgic mindset, and at the same time I was very calm and happy to be spending time in this environment. I think this state of mind reflected on the people I portrayed, and perhaps helped form a bridge, as I was an outsider to them. It took some time, but me returning from time to time over the years helped create trust.
The portraits cover people in sun kissed and peaceful moments. How did you go about merging culture and life of the location into portraits?
To some extend, I was projecting my own ideas on the culture and life there. Living and working in a community and place where there was a lot of room to spend your time on doing what you like. I think this is one of the main reasons for people to live in such a way. This self-empowerment and freedom, made me focus on individuals, instead of photographing group activities or a community. For me independency was an important element in the portraits. Their conviction to this independent lifestyle and their confidence in pursuing this, made me look for the peaceful moments, I think it is a peaceful lifestyle. To me, this environment was a little haven, where people weren’t too bothered by the outside world.
Credit: The Docklands Project - Agency Sem Langendijk ID: A mans back can be seen with tattos covered on his back and left arm. His hair is pink and yellow with a large studded belt holding up their jeans.
Credit: The Docklands Project - Agency Sem Langendijk ID: A disco ball sits in an old tyre with a plastic toy dinosaur sitting atop of the disco ball.
Credit: The Docklands Project - Agency Sem Langendijk ID: A couple stand holding one another. The man wearing all black and a bowler hat is looking at us (right) and the woman (left) wearing a green, blue black and white knitted top is looking off into the distance. Behind them is trees and a lawn.
How did you go about immersing yourself in this community? As a photographer, I am an observer and analyse things. Perhaps for that reason, I never really wanted to immerse myself into this community too much. I revisited over the years and knew some people there, so at some point people were aware of my existence and presence. But the project in mind was not necessarily about them, this was about my personal research so I always kept fairly distant and clear about my intentions. It might seem like I’m close to them on a personal level, but I’m perhaps just open and at ease around these strangers, because I admired them. I got to know some people, and a few I had known for long, but the portraits in the series are taken at first encounters and brief passing-by’s of people I don’t know. This method of working also relates to my approach in New York and London, where lonely walks and encounters with strangers in the street form the foundation.
Are there any people that stood out and whose stories really resonated?
To me the portrait of the boy, named Tommy, was in a way looking at myself at a younger age. These photographs have a special meaning for me personally. There are the stories of people that had chosen to live at the ADM, because they weren’t accepted in their previous environment. The community included gay, trans-gender, tough ‘bootwerkers’, artists, people who had nothing and some who had abandoned all their possessions. They came from all over the world, too. I don’t feel there was anybody that stood out to me most, as each person had a compelling story or reason to be there.
Is the Agency one of life one that you'd like to see more common in society and communities?
The reason for me to photograph the life at the ADM, was to incorporate this in a larger story about the transformation of the city’s fringes. My personal background is in a way represented in the project in this way. I would like to see this more; perhaps put best, I would like to see this disappear less. To have these areas that leave room for people to appropriate space and develop experimental ideas about living, close to a city, can be interesting for research and innovation. They can serve as havens for people who don’t fit the system.
Currently, these areas are transformed into city districts that serve only one type of citizen. The question is if we can keep cities interesting and diverse, if we build to attract a very homogenous population. The interactions between different groups is what makes a city a breeding ground for new ideas. What I value most from places like the one documented in Agency, is the fact that these can still be shaped by the people, they can be active and involved with their surroundings and serve each other in the form of a community. These values are degraded by current city development, we don’t ‘make’ the city together anymore, we inhabit it
Credit: The Docklands Project - Agency Sem Langendijk ID: A young asian mother is standing with her baby in a greenhouse.
Credit: The Docklands Project - Agency Sem Langendijk ID: A greenhouse scene which is misty, red berries on thin branches and water pipe system can be seen.
In 2019 the area had the vacate, have you been able to stay connected with the people who had to leave?
The goal of the project was to make a portrait of the post-industrial city, through the harbour area. So this former dockland in Amsterdam happened to be where the ADM-community had lived and shaped their world for 20 years, but I never intended to follow them to a new location. I know some are living on another piece of land outside the city, and I sometimes cross paths with the people I had known from before starting the project. At the time of evacuation I also felt there was a lot of grief, as the community had fought till the end to remain there. I didn’t want to document this phase of their story. The work, I hope, is to some extend a document for them too, but my personal involvement with the community has ended for now.
Both NYC and London feel vastly different to Amsterdam in regards to what you're looking to communicate. Both focus more on physical social structures through buildings and their locations. Can you tell me more about the approach behind the two?
In Agency, the focus is more on the people indeed. I think that the relation between the two, people and place, is part of the project and how it came together. I wanted to document the conditions of the docklands, and the fact that this community was living there felt like an interesting example of reusing space. The people were very much defining this place, and the structures and buildings there. So for Agency, the autonomous and self-made aspect of this environment resulted in me focusing more on portraits.
My urge to explore similar areas in different cities, let me to New York and London, to their docklands. I wanted to research the conditions and stages of development, and see if this could reveal something about the way we think about space and city renewal. In Red Hook the approach had to be different to tell the story of that place. To use the same approach was to imply that the conditions, or the way of living was similar, that the community had the same impact on these places, which wasn’t the case. I also didn’t feel I needed to produce a confirmation of communities similar to the ADM living in different cities.
Credit: The Docklands Project - New. York- Sem Langendijk ID: A street corner in New York with passers by, traffic lights and pedestrian crossings.
I learned there was a decline in interactions on the streets in Red Hook, and started to link that to the function and design of buildings. The people were less in control of their surroundings, and therefor I navigated more towards the physical environment and how this affected people. I used the grid of the streets, started to photograph street-corners, and putting these together as a typology. It became visible how the old and new were in juxtaposition. Property is becoming increasingly more abstract with blind walls facing the streets, as if these buildings are turning their backs towards the community. In London, privatisation of space is used to develop the docklands, on a large scale. In these streets people have very little interaction with each other, and the environment felt very abstract and impenetrable. People are present in the work, but they are photographed unrecognisably.
So in a way, I think the transition from the docklands into new waterfront city districts, which is happening in all of these cities, goes hand in hand with a decline in social interactions and the ability for people to shape space into place, people loose the connection to the surroundings. I chose exemplary locations to photograph, and in the visual approach and editing I navigated from people towards more abstract images of space.
Credit: The Docklands Project - New. York- Sem Langendijk ID: A group of people of asian heritage stand looking around them. The image is shot from above showing us the large pedestrian walkway around the people.
Credit: The Docklands Project - London - Sem Langendijk ID: Water reflecting a sky scraper. The water is rippling to create an abstract looking scene.
From Russia with Love - The Clearing House with Garry Loughlin.
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Credit: Garry Loughlin ID: A grid of full of images showing a hand holding a torch and another hand covering the torch. Some images show just the torch and others with the torch covered. The images are depicting morse code.
In September 1983, a Russian diplomat Victor Lipassov and his wife Evdokia were removed from Ireland after connections with the IRA and KGB were found. Victors wife, Evdokia was behind the negotiations with the KGB and IRA whilst the UK's governments focus was on Victor as she moved outside of a restricted radius that only Victor was confined too. The Clearing House explores this unique time of Russian espionage in Ireland and the invisible boarders but in place the the state to restrict movement.
Your project The Clearing House explores the historical events of a now known KGB spy whose wife worked with the IRA. Can you tell me a little more behind the history which the project covers?
I would use the term “worked with” very loosely. From what I understand through my research there was a reluctance within the KGB to get involved with the IRA. The KGB’s relationship with the IRA was a means to an end towards the disruption of power held by the UK.
The history the project covers begins with the arrival of Yuri Ustimenko to Ireland. Ustimenko was a reporter for the Soviet state run broadcaster TASS, and the first to arrive in Ireland. He arrived in September 1970 and generated some concern for the British government, as they believed that he might have been a spy. The British government insisted that the Irish authorities controlled Ustimenkos movements by implementing travel restrictions. Under these restrictions, Ustimenko had to give 48 hours notice if he had to travel outside the Republic of Ireland including any trips to Northern Ireland.
When the Soviet embassy was established in 1973, it too was to face restrictions as wished by the British government. They tried to control the number of staff employed on the property as well as imply new travel restrictions on the staff. Diplomats working at the embassy were not allowed to travel more than 25km from the embassy without requesting permission from the authorities. The presence of the embassy in DUblin placed Ireland in a difficult position. The country was the only non-NATO state in the EEC and were constantly under pressure to divulge information about their Soviet “friends' ', bringing into question their “neutral” stance in the world's political stage.
Credit: Garry Loughlin ID: A map upon a park bench can be seen with an undisclosed figures arm and hand seen resting on the edge of the park bench.
Credit: Garry Loughlin ID: A photo collage. In the top right of the image are rocks light in red and orange light. Below to the left is the back of a persons head in a denim jacket. Numbers and letters can be seen running down the left hand side of the portrait.
The Clearing House connects invisible lines of boarders and a russian spy story set in Ireland. What connected you to this place and story?
I am from Ireland, but I haven’t lived there for a number of years and was looking for a project to bring me back there. I feel that as photographers (at least myself), we are always looking outwards to find subjects to make work about. After leaving Ireland I guess I started looking back and seeing the potential I missed while I was there. Obviously BREXIT was playing out during this time, and the border between the Republic and the North has a major role in how it will unfold.
I originally was introduced to the story when I heard about undercover Soviet ships operating off Irish shores during the Cold War, once I learned about another “border” imposed by the British government in order to restrict the movements of the Soviet diplomats I couldn’t resist.
The nature of the story also gave me licence to introduce new strategies to my practice and approach the familiar surroundings of Ireland in a way I haven’t before.
Spies and espionage and secret missions often has a rose tinted look to it, glorified in Hollywood. The reality is a lot different. How did you go about capturing the feeling of Russian spy hysteria in the 70s and 80s within the work?
This era has been captured and recreated so much in TV and film that it is ingrained in our minds-eye. There is also a mountain of propaganda material from both sides available on youtube which was a pleasure to dive into. I surrounded myself with such materials, as well as newspaper articles and trips to state archives in Ireland and the UK. Living within all this information and imagery allowed me to absorb it all in and it to come out in the work both consciously and unconsciously.
Credit: Garry Loughlin ID: An image depicting a metal machine with bolts, knobs and apparatus. The objects use is obscured from our knowledge. It looks like something from a submarine or a James Bond movie.
Can you tell me more about your gridded image of the hand and light?
The gridded image is morse code spelling out ‘Active Measures”. Active measures is a catch-all term for political warfare used by the KGB, with the aim to alter the balance of power throughout the world. These active measures would include anything from disinformation, to assasination, to establishing and/or supporting subversive groups, in this case it was the IRA.
Restriction plays a large part in the story as well as within your images. How did you approach creating this tension?
The work was built around restrictions. Restriction is a key part of the story, and was a constant in the creation of the work. The nature of the subject meant that a lot of the information was not readily available, and access to individuals and areas of interest also raised some hurdles. So, much like the Lipassovs, I needed to be creative in achieving my objectives. The tension present in the work was something that grew naturally out of periods of frustration I experienced while trying to piece the fractured elements together.
Credit: Garry Loughlin ID: A black and white image of large reeds.
Credit: Garry Loughlin ID: A shore scene with red rocks, seaweed and the ocean at the bottom of the image.
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“Was it ever real to begin with?” Jonny Briggs Sheds Light on his Creative Process
In an age of photography where digital manipulation is king, Jonny Briggs' work challenges the viewer’s perceptions of what is real and what is fake. Using physical methods to manipulate his images, they seem to come from a more organic place, and hold a stronger sense of meaning. As well as working within the parameters of physical manipulation, he questions the legitimacy of life within a photograph “ photography is inescapably about lying - it's representing something that isn't there.”
Briggs uses the process of physical manipulation and notions of truth to explore his own family history and memory, in his own words he aims to “re-capture childhood nature through my assuming adult eyes.” While some may shy away from the thought of working with family as subjects, Brigg’s found it flowed naturally for him giving the space to explore subjects and emotions that would otherwise lay dormant. Voicing things he stayed silent about during his childhood. It is fair to say his work walks the lines of reality and fiction. Ambiguously sharing his family truth.
His creative process certainly stands out, from the initial spark to the conception, below Briggs walks us through his process and gives us an insight to how he works with such personal topics in a unique way.
Credit: Jonny Briggs, Envisionaries no. 11 Photomontage ID: A photo collage. In the background a black and white portrait. Covering the eyes is two digital images of someones mouth.
What initially inspired you to explore the ideas of family and memory?
Ever since art foundation, I started making work about my family and memory, and I'm unsure what provoked this pathway. The simplest reason I can give is that every time I think about my family, ideas would spark - so I've just followed these interests and seen where they've taken me. I was pretty quiet throughout childhood and adolescence, especially about what was happening at home, so I wonder if the work might be an opportunity to have a voice - to make what was once silent heard.
Did you ever find it artistically conflicting or difficult exploring such personal topics?
I find it's often the opposite - it's easy, and the ideas flow. It feels liberating to make work, to have ideas, to have an outlet for issues once bottled. With the artwork, you can both say something and not say something at the same time. You can communicate ambiguities and contradictions, and open up questions rather than close down into neatly packaged answers. Sometimes there isn't an easy answer, and sometimes a contradiction is more honest. Through the artwork, uncertainties can have a voice.
Your photographs include your family members, for example My Blood and Consuming a Grief That is Yet to Come. How did you find creating an artistic relationship with your family, did it come naturally and how was it conceived?
2004 onwards I started making work involving my family. It felt like it made sense before I thought it made sense (if that makes sense?!) It felt like opening a can of worms. I have too many ideas and not enough time or funds to make them haha!
Credit: Jonny Briggs, Consuming a Grief that is Yet to Come ID: A framed photograph of a young boy, fingers can be seen puncturing the image from behind and clawing their way through the image.
Your work is quite abstract in the fact that they are performative and physically altered. Does this approach involve a lot of trial and error with ideas that don’t work out, or do you have a set of concepts now that are failsafe?
When coming up with ideas, I feel free and floaty, sparking ideas as intuitively and spontaneously as possible. Making these feels like I can never do justice to the idea, and there are a lot of works that I haven't released, and photographs that I've ended up re-shooting, because composition didn't align, or the lighting was slightly off, or the body language wasn't how I wanted it. Sometimes parts of a work can go wrong in a good way - the way the making process deviates from the initial idea can take me into an area I connect with.Though with most shoots, I take hundreds of photographs - sometimes thousands. This is one of the reasons I've moved away from working with large format analogue cameras. Working digitally has given me a license to be more performative, experimental with the image making process.
The fact that your images are physically manipulated makes them stand out against the ever growing digital age where anything can be achieved at the touch of a button. What is your take on the ever growing digitality of photography compared to the more analogue approach?
What a photograph is and can be has expanded - and is continuing to expand. Whether digital or analogue, photography is inescapably about lying - it's representing something that isn't there. Yet lies can point to truths. This suspension between what's real and what's not takes me back to the childhood mindset of not knowing what's real and what's fantasy, where anything is possible. A friend of mine in the Magic Circle said the question he's most commonly asked is 'how did you do it?' Every now and then, he would reveal to a group how a trick was performed - yet each time he did, their response would be one of disappointment. I enjoy it when someone assumes one of my photographs to be Photoshopped. There are often clues in my photographs as to where the truth of the image lies. Yet even these can be bluffs, double bluffs or triple bluffs. Was it ever real to begin with? I'm working with my experience of deception, through a medium of deception. The constructed reality of the family, through the constructed reality of photography.
Your artist statement says that through your work you, “attempt to re-capture childhood nature through my assuming adult eyes.” How easy was it for you to find the medium between childhood and adulthood?
It's an impossible task to connect with myself when I was younger - particularly as the more I move into adulthood, the more my childhood self becomes a stranger to me. I find this comes in to play whenever I show a person a photograph of myself as a child - I feel torn between saying 'this is me' and 'this was me.' The characters in the photographs feel somewhere between my parents and I, somewhere between us then and us now. I want to go back and fix things, but i know i can't do that. The art making process can be a way to reconstruct the past, or give it a new shape.
Credit: Jonny Briggs, Schisms Photomontage ID: A series of framed family photographs which have been cut in half and diagonally.
Could you walk us through your creative process, from initial idea/moment of inspiration to conception?
The usual way I'll come up with ideas is by drinking lots of coffee, and sitting alone with my notebook. I'll usually like to be around nature. The other day I had a new idea for a scene pop into my mind while in the shower, seemingly emerging out of the blue. I'll sketch out ideas, sometimes words or phrases, onto post it notes, and stick them up at home, so I can constantly look at them, digest them, move the post it notes into clusters of ideas, and sometimes combine them. Often one idea will spark another, like a domino effect. I love the idea-sparking stage. The making stage I like less so, because it's such a challenge to do justice to the idea. The smallest of decisions seem to make the greatest of impacts.
What piece of advice would you give to creatives wanting to explore more tactile and performative ways of creating work?
Focus on your own journey of interest and see where it takes you. Everyone has their own methodology, their own visual language, their own conceptual language, and it takes a while to clear the fog of what your own is - so be patient with yourself and keep going. It can be so easy to attempt to see your work through other people's eyes, yet the most important eyes to see your work through are your own. If you make what you think others want, your work will always be second guessing, and most likely over-thought. You don't have to understand what you're getting at or why you're making the work you're making, in order to get value from it.
