memory lane

It felt significant to be in the Photographers Gallery visiting this year's Deutsche Borse show. I last attended two long years ago, in the early weeks of the pandemic. It some ways everything was back to what it was, but I sense there is still an awareness of social space. Not quite the choerography of lockdown, more a heightened politeness. 

It was a visit that prompted memories in another way too. I was particular interested to see Whatever You Say, Say Nothing by Gilles Peres.

Having spent my childhood summer holidays in Ireland, split between the north and west of the country, the images had a resonance as both reflections of experience but also representations of a reality that was not that long ago. 

The arrangement of the room, the use of the walls of the space and one across the centre, accentuated the significance of that form in the narrative of The Troubles, serving as a division, a hiding place, a canvas. The images were presented as excerpts from the structure of the book.of 22 fictional days. The text is woven into the display to create a richer, and more disturbing, experience. 

 

I also appreciated the production of the images, in an almost bllboard style. Another acknowledgement of the street roots of the work. Certainly not the preciousness of a high end gallery and another remider of an early show of my work.

 

It was good to be back.

a kind of homecoming

Honoured to have had the opportunity to review Kyun Ngui's zine It's Coming Home for the London Independent Photography group. It's overdue some publicity. 

I remember how impressed I was when Kyun originally introduced this to the Ealing group as a fully formed project soon after the tournament ended. 

The images fizz with atmosphere and...well, you'll have to buy fLIP to read the rest!

terra firma

After so long at home, a short break away in Naples was a throwback to a pre-pandemic time for me. Looking at the photographs now, I can see the style of those days but my recent project has definitely left its mark too.

  

Significantly signs of the pandemic - apart from conscientious mask wearing - are few but responses to the latest crisis in Europe are evident.

 

So where's the black and white ones on film? Well it's another sign of my times. I did bring my camera but found my mobile - as I had a few years ago after a break - has become my new extension. The transplant is complete, almost.

 

rites of spring

The first days of spring are bringing darker days, not lighter. The stress and struggle of the last two years have been put in context in an unimaginable way. 

It brings me back abruptly to my New Europe project. That project was borne of travelling to cities around Europe, freely. Of acknowledging London as a city of refugee and refugees.

 

That also seems a distant memory right now.

 

nocturne number 2

It's been a while since my last nocturnal walk around the city. What was a first though, was joining a group of other photographers on the adventure. I've always felt a little superior to the pack approach, playing on the lone wolf stereotype, but this taught me not to be so precious. It was really interesting to look through other people's eyes on the same scenes when we shared our work with the wider LIP group. 

 

 

In addition the walk was well structured by Dan Dodman to reference points of historical note en route, so it brought together two of my passions. The only downside to the evening was my failed attempt to pirouette some street furniture in the dark. Ouch.

My slalom metaphor suddenly seemed very apt.