Shame about the marks on this image; the lab believes that it’s because the image is significantly underexposed and that as a result result dust and other marks show up. I thought they looked like developing fluid on the neg but none of the other images have them so 🤷♂️. Shame as I love the way her face emerges from the darkness.
Before Temple
Sunday morning at the end of summer, rakish light bisects the buildings of the south London skyline. I notice the man first, barefoot and brightly lit but on his phone so I hang back pretending to wait for a bus. Then the boy appears, also barefoot, the light making him glow like an angel. Patience; the conversation is animated but it can’t last indefinitely. He’s still talking when he waves and a car pulls up at the side of the road. The conversation ends; obviously he’s been giving directions. I chance an approach to ask if there is time for a portrait, they are happy to oblige but the conversation is brief, as fast as the light falls I shoot a frame and they are gone as if in a getaway car.
Purgatorial Shadows
Sun baked concrete, grey and tough as an elephants hide, hummed whirred with the cicada like chirrup of small wheels. Standing and observing these freewheeling souls crisscrossing the skate park in undulating lines one figure stands out; his lean torso and wiry arms garlanded with the lines of self-harm, his face a rough hue of effort and toil and yet, set steadily and with steel like determination, a pair of resolute blue eyes, blade sharp and piercing. I speak to him and he is at once conciliatory and engaged. His story is obvious; a huge sea of mental health trauma in which he barely floats, mostly sinks and drowns. Skating keeps him afloat. His nature is easy to see as sincere and authentic but I sense he spends a good deal of time, rocking back and forth like a purgatorial shadow.
My Boy
He’s growing up fast, gaining a sense of himself and the man he wants to be. I’m so proud of him. It makes my heart swell to bursting.
Bonnie & Clyde
They cruised easily through the park, the faint whine of the electric motor taking the strain off life. Like Bonnie & Clyde he was driving shoeless, she comfortably nestled on the back seat, owning her own space. Youth mixed blessedly with effortless equanimity.
Adrian & his Daughter
Her spirit and energy infected the park, her father looking on happy and proud. I’m still spinning from having traversed half the world, the coffee I’ve just had has yet to kick into my system and I’m not sure what time zone I’m in. The girl falls. Her father picks her up, their blue eyes come together like steel beads shot against their flaxen hair. I feel the pang of fatherhood, my own boys a whole half world away so I ask to make their picture. His voice is instantly English, his original home also half a world away but also here now in Sydney.
National Portrait Gallery Taylor Wessing Photographic Portrait Prize 2022
Being included in this exhibition has been a goal of mine since I started this journey. To be included in this year’s selection is beyond a dream and feels like the most wonderful validation of both my own effort and Ivan’s lived experience. Thank you National Portrait Gallery!
To see the full selection of images from the exhibition click here.