Learning Through Making
Back in 2020 I was at a critical junction in photography. I had gained enough confidence to embrace the idea of being a practicing photographer and I had a strong sense that working within documentary photography was where I wanted to go next.
I had been through a mini emotional breakdown, applied for a masters programme almost out of compulsion, surprisingly been accepted and then deferred due to the pandemic. Even though I had an inkling of the kind of work I wanted to make, I didn't really know who I was as an artist. I’ve learnt since that it can be a malleable thing, but back then I was desperate to complete a body of work to establish myself and to get going on this new direction I was being pulled in.
Fortunately, I had an idea I was passionate about and began working on a project some readers may be aware of, titled Whims of the Rye. Back then, I thought I was in the perfect position. I had a project to work on for a year before I started my MA; I imagined I would make significant progress in the run up, then finish my project while on my course and leave with a solid body of work behind me…
As I get closer to the fourth year of working on the project I’ve learnt not to make such audacious projections. I’ve discovered a lot about myself on the journey to complete this project and it’s taught me a bit about how I might make work in the future. I’m a little envious of photographers who are able to complete robust and beautiful bodies of work in a few weeks or months and I used to balk at the idea of the photographers who would spend years or even decades on a single body of work. However, through working on Whims of the Rye I’ve learnt my own approach may lie somewhere in the middle.
Some of this is down to financial constraints. Material costs are so egregious it's gotten to the point where I may need to start selling my liver if I’m going to continue using film. And also time constraints, making work around working part-time, freelancing, the weather and of course around the schedules of the many people who graciously offer their own time to be part of the work I make. But it’s also down to the way I like to make work to begin with, which is very slowly.
I’ve found that working on a body of work for a significant period of time can be as revealing about your process as it is about the work you’re making. I showed work regularly, early on and that’s something I likely wouldn't do in the future because I now understand how revealing a body of work with fuller context helps not only myself and they way I make sense of what I'm showing, but the person on the other end whose opinion may better be served by a greater understanding that only more context can provide. I've experienced how the shape of a work can shift and flip as you delve deeper into it and how new opportunities present themselves or in many cases, disappear. I’ve discovered how the way you change as an individual can change the way you perceive your work as you’re making it. The last few years have seen me develop a stronger desire to build and maintain the communities I have and this has worked its way into my process in ways that can’t be seen in a print or a photo book.
With all that being said however, there is a point at which you must start showing work and while my project is nowhere near complete, I am far more confident in what it is now. As a result of that confidence, I've begun the process of getting more eyes on the project. As I feel the work beginning to take what is likely its final form I may share more about the process of the making of it through these newsletters.
Last October, I was accepted onto the inaugural REFELCTOR development programme run by GRAIN, an arts organisation based in the West Midlands. The programme is dedicated to artists of colour with master classes and reviews among other things, hosted exclusively by established practitioners of colour. It has already been an invaluable experience. The programme includes regular trips up to the New Art Gallery in Walsall and may end with some kind of exhibition, I’ll be sure to provide an update in good time if it comes to fruition.
My hope is to make as much progress as possible with the project this year and to ideally acquire some kind of funding for it. Either that or I may still be dropping newsletter updates in 2028 with a slowly regenerating liver.
Jokes aside, I’m optimistic for the direction the work will take this year and as the weather improves I look forward to getting out and making work more regularly again. I’m also keen to begin a new project I’ve been thinking through for about a year now, who knows, maybe I’ll get round to starting that in 2024 too (I've learnt nothing, clearly). The pictures I’ve shared in this newsletter are from the first session for the Whims of the Rye project this year.
Take care and catch you next time.