charmed. not.

The past year has been quite a weird time for me photographically – over and above being on my MA course. On the one hand I’ve gained valuable experience of negotiating repeated access to situations and forming relationships of respect and, I hope, trust with the people I photograph and those who help me. That has helped build my confidence, but there’s a flip side which is eroding it terribly.

There’s no doubt that being a (reasonably) young female photographer can be an advantage in many situations but I am starting to feel my gender is also a hindrance. Three times over the past year I have had men who are in some way part of my projects develop an unwelcome and persistent attachment. Once this resulted in me getting stalked by phone and web for several months (10+ calls a day) from another country. That had such an effect that I can still barely look at the resulting photos without my stomach churning. Another time it caused me to end a project I’d invested several months in and was really enjoying. And recently some intense and uncomfortable male attention has led me to give up on something before it’s really begun – despite several months of groundwork and negotiating of access. Since that person was basically to be my fixer, I felt somewhat vulnerable relying on him in the circumstances. This kind of thing has happened in the past to a far lesser degree but with photography projects I need to spend more time with people and more is at stake if they fall through.

What’s interesting – and troubling – about all of this is that it’s really little to do with looks or behaviour – I’m certainly not one of those girls who flirts or uses their feminine charms to get them places. I totally understand that there’s a certain power dynamic at work when one person is holding a camera and that that can be attractive. I get that an (educated, independent) foreign woman or outsider to any kind of marginal community can be exotic and interesting.

But I’m convinced that it’s more to do with how I interact with people and have been left feeling extremely unnerved by these experiences – questioning silly things like do I smile at people too much, do I make too much eye contact, should I take less of an interest in other people’s lives….all the things which make me who I am and enable me to do the kind of journalism I do. This is now really bothering me – my directness, ability to listen and to take an interest, the way I treat everyone the same no matter who they are and my friendliness seem to be conspiring against me as a documentary photographer who wants to work on intimate long-term projects, because some men seem to think we’ve had some kind of significant ‘connection’ and that I’m in some way different.

I’d be interested to know if other women (or male) photographers have had similar experiences. It’s not something I’ve ever heard anyone discuss but it’s extemely unnerving.

taming the monkey

Today I had a go at shooting from what I feel, as opposed to what I see, following a lecture last week from renowned photographer Peter Fraser. He asked us to sit somewhere where we feel safe for 30 minutes with our eyes closed and to tune into what we feel. When the alarm went off we had to shoot a few photos instinctively. I’m not sure whether I did this exercise quite right but I did my best. Working at home limited my options somewhat, as did the fact it’s really quite cold and damp outside, so I ended up sitting on the floor in my bedroom. I knew what would probably happen if I sat or lay on the bed. I didn’t have too much trouble with the silence part, having learned to ‘still the chattering monkey’ when I attended meditation classes for a few years.  Unfortnately my cat seemed quite confused by the whole thing and kept pawing me, playing with a pair of shoes and pouncing on a plastic bag on the floor and generally looking for attention. Since I was extremely conscious of her, I ended up photographing her afterwards. The photo is not very exciting but  in some sense I do think it captures the stillness of the room at that point. An interesting exercise which I’d be keen to repeat at a more challenging time, to see what happens and how it affects my images. I look forward to seeing what my classmates come up with. Needless to say the cat went to sleep as soon as this was over.

Posted in: LCC

six by seven

I’m trying to get to grips with a new camera, a Mamiya 7ii, and just scanned a couple of test rolls. Many went straight in the bin – badly focused, badly exposed or in a few cases completely blank (not sure why). But a few turned out quite well. This is my first medium format camera – I borrowed a friend’s Bronica for a couple of weeks last year – and I haven’t shot much film, so it’s going to be a bit hit and miss for a while I think. I doubt I’ll dare to shoot any project work on it until I’m a bit more confident…i really love the 6×7 format though – now just need to get shooting some people.

one last kick in the bricks

Following on from this, I’ve taken one last look at my Elijah Debnam photofilm for a uni multimedia assignment. This is my final version. (You can watch it larger and see a transcript over here)

There has been an exciting development in my Streetfighters work, which I hope to share soon. Watch this space.

‘they’ll have to carry me out in a box’

I took a trip back to Oldham today to catch up with Elijah, my Street Fighter who has touched people most. It’s getting on for 11 months since I first met him (I’ve been back numerous times since then) and precisely nothing has changed in his situation. He is now 90 years old and his property is technically owned by Oldham City Council, following a compulsory purchase order. The council still wants to get him out and to demolish the house, which is younger than its owner.  This is despite the fact the bottom has fallen out of the building industry, followed by the axing of the Housing Market Renewal Initiative – the budget funding this, ahem, ‘regeneration’ scheme – by the coalition government. Elijah is still determined to stay put – he said today they’d have to ‘carry him out in a box’. Most of the surrounding streets are totally empty now and many have been torn down. Grass seed and cherry trees have been planted where lives were once lived.

Elijah’s story, and others, can be viewed over here.

Indian memories – photofilm

Months and months ago I posted a few images on here which I had dug out of my late grandmother’s photo album, featuring snapshots of their life in India – where my dad’s family lived for several generations until the early 1950s.  Vernacular history is something I find very interesting, so I pinned my dad down a while back so I could record a few of his memories from Calcutta. I just got around to combining these two elements into a photofilm,  which can be viewed over here.

I hope to do something similar with my mum – who had a very different upbringing in post-war smalltown Ireland – at some point but realised the other day that I have never actually seen any family pictures belonging to her. My mission over Christmas will be finding out whether or not any exist.

In the meantime, and speaking of Ireland, the folks at the new multimedia site Storyful have done a generous little write-up on my work. Very unexpected and much appreciated. Slainte and Merry Christmas

Appleby’s painted ladies

I’ve been meaning to combine some of my Appleby Horse Fair images from the past two years with some audio I collected this June, but the past six months have been so hectic that I’ve only just got around to it.

I’ve written on here before of my fascination with the other side of Appleby – the social side where young single travelling men and women hope to find that special person.

When I went for the first time, I was transfixed by the young women. It was freezing cold and drizzled for most of the four days and I spent the whole time decked out in several tops, gloves, a waterproof and a rather unattractive pair of green wellies. Yet the young Gypsy and Traveller girls floated around the fields and village like neon, fake-tanned birds of paradise – decked out in some of the skimpiest clothes you’ll see outside a nightclub. It was utterly unexpected.

As I learned more about their culture, this display became even more of a conundrum. These remain some of the UK’s most traditional communities in terms of moral values and a girl’s honour is all. Couples usually marry young and often start families by the time they are 17 or 18. Sex before marriage is frowned upon, divorce is rare and family is everything.

Appleby, I learned, is not only about horses – there are actually two distinct parallel events taking place. Just as the animals are washed and groomed in the hope they will catch a buyer’s eye, the 300-year-old fair has become a time when many single girls primp and preen in the hope they will snare their Prince Charming.

BBC Viewfinder blog

So this is a little embarrassing but in a nice way. I shared a few of my experiences of moving from words to photography on BBC picture editor Phil Coomes’ Viewfinder blog today, as part of his weeklong series featuring different perspectives from the world of photojournalism – a term I personally dislike as I find it fairly pretentious and frequently misused. Other commentators so far are all far more experienced than me: Adrian Evans, head of Panos Pictures, Prof David Campbell and the New York Times’ Michael Kamber. It feels quite uncomfortable to bare my soul like that but I’m flattered to have been asked. Thank you Phil.