Since studying photography, through my BA and then into my MA, my research at some point has always presented the work of Hiroshi Sugimoto to me, yet I’ve not studied in depth or paid much attention to it, dismissing it as not directly relevant. So, when looking at relevant practitioners for my final project and searching with ‘new eyes’ for photography with a meditative quality, Sugimoto’s work seemed ridiculously obvious. I wonder why I haven’t given more time to study his his photography before.
One of the findings from the last few years, more so for the MA, is how interrelated architecture is with landscape based art. It is like a hybrid discipline combining art, engineering, technology and science. Much of the critical theory I’ve studied stems from architecture (e.g. Tilley & Abelman) and so it should have been no surprise to discover that Sugimoto, as well as being a photographer is also an architect. It is clearly evident in Sugimoto’s work. There are many elements in his art which align with the conventions of architecture, just a quick study of his photography shows the lines and forms which are synonymous with the profession.
This is a quick screen grab from his website to demonstrate my point:
His ‘seascapes’ work is perhaps the most well known, at least to me it is. I remember being drawn to these in the first year of my BA but didn’t fully question why (see previous point!) so as I turn my attention to this work, it is sometjing of an epiphany to realise this work is all about meditation, memory and time. The question of whether there might be someone on the other side of the world, seeing the same scene and then the fact that this scene has barely changed since the beginning of time on earth; the sea, the horizon, the sky, all lying in a line. There are questions around climate and how that might make the scene appear different, ie the reflection on the sea from the sky above, the sealife and the conditions it once thrived in, somehow dulling the waters hues.In the photographs below, the dates span 30 years and yet nothing looks particularly different between them. They are all from different parts of the world and in different decades. For me this is an intriguing study into concepts of time, which these images seem to reject.
The sea is something I gravitate towards, when I can. In its absence, I seek out other bodies of water. Although they don’t have the horizon, they still offer a space for reflection and contemplation. This is evident in my work as when I walk through the landscape I would usually chose to photograph near the water or the water itself.
Mystery of mysteries, water and air are right there before us in the sea. Every time I view the sea, I feel a calming sense of security, as if visiting my ancestral home; I embark on a voyage of seeing.
Sugimoto’s seascapes are presented in gallery spaces as large prints (around A0) allowing the viewer to experience the perspective up close. His words below describe his motivation and further evidence of his work being meditative & contemplative.
“A sharp horizon line and a cloudless sky– here began my consciousness… from there my thoughts race to the origins of human consciousness itself. The sea reminds me that within my blood remain traces of human evolution over hundreds of thousands of years.” (Frankael: online)
The work of Hiroshi Sugimoto will be much more of a consideration in my own research as I continue beyond my MA.
Exploring the fragility of human connection with the universe and ecology
I came across Kawauchi’s work during module 7802. She is a Japanese photographer well known for making quiet, intimate images of the day to day objects that we might otherwise ignore, which aligns with ideas around mindful photography practice. Her photographs characteristically have soft light and pale colour palettes with a shallow depth of field. I find many of her photographs are quite surreal and seem to be other worldly. In 2024, she exhibited at the Arnolfini as part of Bristol Photo Festival, the organiser described her work as being ‘characterised by a poetic, dreamlike quality that imbues mundane scenes and objects with a sense of wonder and transcendence’(Arnolfini: online)
The ‘dreamlike quality’ is the first aspect of her work that I notice, I spent some time just simply looking and in an attempt to practice the mindful aspects of photography, just ‘sat with’ the images. It is interesting to experience the change from a simple visual acknowledgement to something more like a physical sensation, which feels more meaningful and immersive.
The photographs below are from Kawachi’s website and are part of her M/E series (Mother / Earth)
At the core of her practice is her exploration into the relationship between humans and the rest of the natural world. Her work tends to present a sympathetic view, the images are very gentle and she discusses in an interview that her books are a very important part of her work, recognising that to see work in a gallery requires a viewer to enter a prescribed space whereas a book can be picked up and put down whenever desired and without distraction.
Another compelling point she makes concerns her explanation of why her latest book, Halo, brings together subjects that initially appear unrelated. Rather than emphasising an obvious or direct relationship between them, she asks the viewer to consider their broader place in the world. Kawachi suggests that everything in the book is connected through her personal love of nature and the world around her, even if those connections are not immediately clear. This makes the work seem deeply personal as I wonder whether it is more of a representation of artists inner thoughts, as well as the subjects themselves.
This raises the question of whether conventional expectations about what is and is not considered “connected” should be challenged when assembling a book, or creative work more broadly. My own rigidity over making things uniform or having the conventional belief that there must be obvious connection in my work, perhaps should be challenged.
I note my thoughts and feelings about the image below: ‘I see what could at first glance be a person but I realise is more likely a building. A church perhaps. Obviously there is glass between the viewer and the scene, as the rain tells us that. I notice tiny dots on the raindrops which almost create comical faces in them. As though they are looking back at me saying ‘let us in’! This amuses me. It feels cold, as the image is blue, the light is low and this is synonymous with a damp and dreary English Autumn or winter day. I find it both brooding and melancholy. Were there a light somewhere on the building, this would change the sensation of the image completely, I would see this as hopeful.
She uses photography as meditation. Her approach being to sit with her surroundings for a while, noticing the various sensations that appear; this might be to do with the sound and temperature or the damp weather as in the photo above. In the rain, she would have had added distraction from the water hitting her head and body, which may have made it more difficult to ‘tune in’ to her surroundings. What is clear though is that no matter the situation, by employing some mindfulness discipline, its possible, using creativity, to extract meaning from the chosen environment regardless of ‘distractions’ in this case, rain fall.
There is much to admire about her practice and work. Although aesthetically Kawauchi’s work doesn’t align with my personal taste, her methods and subject matter are highly relevant and interesting. I would like to view her work up close and I am looking out for any exhibitions so that I can visit. I can imagine some of these works being quite thought provoking seen up close and on a different scale.
The FMP process is a module which enables the opportunity to begin relying on my own experience and instinct when it comes to direction and analysis of work and ideas. As the transition from the secure and supportive environment of university into creative independence begins, it is necessary to build a separate network of people that can provide the critical feedback and support as I embark on my professional career. In light of this, I had a meeting with friends, both of who are creative, talented business owners and importantly, able to be professionally critical. These women, among others, have contributed greatly to my creative practice since its inception at BA level. Thanks to Julie Birch and Sally Guibert
The purpose of the session was to discuss ideas beyond university, to look at my current work for my FMP and to ascertain how best to provide ongoing support and ensure accountability.
We talked about the importance and relevance of galleries, entering competitions and collaborative opportunities. Additionally, we discussed the merits of a gallery style website as a priority to remove over reliance on social media platforms, thus stepping into a more ‘professional’ practitioner role.
Key points:
Examples of places to contact for selling work include the Curated Store in Stow on the Wold, they have a strong social media presence and strong brand appeal (aligned with my own creative style)
Blockely Art collective – shared exhibition space
Spring and Sixteen gallery in Cheltenham. Ask for 12 month schedule to see if any opportunities
Wilson Gallery. Contact friend who is now CEO of Cheltenham Trust to discuss potential opportunities to develop a themed exhibition, collaborating with other artists / photographers.
Momentum. Meet monthly to share ideas and to stay accountable. Consider workspace opportunities for collaborative working.
Have a large roll of paper or flip chart in my workspace so that I can detail tasks and ideas, then they are clearly visible and act as reminders.
Target fixed number of hours per week to stay on task. I find unless I do this, the week can become overwhelming with other non-creative tasks and I stop making it a priority. This is hugely frustrating and stifles my progress. Prioritising my creative ambitions over a very busy homelife is psychologically difficult as it isn’t a paid 9-5 job. This mindset is something I am challenging as I realise its a key barrier to my future success.
We have planned to meet quarterly to discuss these ideas (my friends have creative projects of their own) so that we can offer support and feedback to one another. Working independently can be quite a lonely scenario and it is usefel to have feedback from people who are honest and critical.
Here I give more information about the key texts I have read during my MA, those which have had the most influence and given me the change of direction I needed, with which to help me identify my true interests in my practice. Although there is a lot of critical theory that I have studied over the course of this MA, these contemporary writers and experts combine many of the older philosophical views that I’ve researched already, therefore, I have chosen to expand on these, rather than unnecessarily repeat myself. I have listed other key influences on my page, to demonstrate my knowledge and sources in my post titled ‘Landscape Mindfulness & Photography‘
Tim Ingold
Landscape as seen as a temporal ‘taskscape’ by Tim Ingold. Regarded as ‘the familiar domain of our dwelling…and through living in it, the landscape becomes a part of us, just as we are a part of it. His book The Perception of The Environment (Ingold, 2022) has been essential reading in helping me to understand the concepts of landscape, dwelling, space and place. Ingold adopts the dwelling perspective, having been influenced by the philosophy of Martin Heidigger (p190) Like Heidigger, Ingold argues that humans are not simply detached observers of the world but are already deeply involved in it.
This reminds me of a book I read called Braiding Sweetgrass, written by Robin Wall Kimmerer (2013) She is a member of Citizen Potawatomi Nation, an indigenous tribe, originally from the Great Lakes area of the USA, and who are well known for their cultural resilience. The book demonstrates a culture of reciprocity and of being ‘in’ nature, not separate to it. In doing so, there is no objectification, just an unquestionable sense of being part of the land, alongside all the other elements. Her work is predominantly focussed on “restoration of ecological communities and restoration of our relationships to land“. I recognise aspects of this culture running through the ideas presented by Ingold/ Heidigger. They both reject the idea that people first think about the world and then act on it, instead emphasising lived experience and practical engagement. For both, meaning comes from dwelling in the world through everyday activities rather than from abstract thinking or viewing the world from a distance. This research does emphasise how the Potawatomi relationship to land and nature is much more connected and instinctive than our own.
In the chapter ‘The Temporality of the Landscape’ (p234:258) Ingold uses the example of a painting, ‘The Harvesters’ by Pieter Bruegel the Elder (fig 1), to illustrate his views in the essay (p250) This was especially useful to visualise his key points. He dissects each landscape element into their individual components; the hills and valley, paths and tracks, the tree, the corn, the church and, the people. He demonstrates how each of these elements is measured by time and has been shaped by the lives present and past.
Fig 1. ‘The Harvesters’ Pieter Bruegal the Elder, 1565
Key points to be made about the painting:
The land is not an abstract surface or property but a worked ‘lived’ ground
It has evidence of historical labour – paths, hedgerows etc
shaped by repeated human engagement
Trees show a different temporal rhythm to humans and coexist, they are not background scenery but active elements of the landscapes becoming
grain represents seasonal growth and the rhythms of agriculture, they show the interdependence of labour and natural cycles
The painting shows a specific moment within the year (late summer harvest)
The church indicates long term habitation and along with other buildings signal ongoing dwelling
The harvesters are shown working, resting and eating, in different phases of carrying out their tasks, which forms the basis of the ‘taskscape’
People are not separate but part of the landscape
Ingolds book altered the way I understand my surroundings, in so far as I could validate my personal response to it. I have used his method of describing the painting below when I initially try to immerse myself in my environment, as a way to distract myself from my usual thoughts. I sense the lives before me embedded in the landscapes I document, especially related to Ingold’s concept of taskscape; my grandfathers work in Guiting and surrounding area is particular resonant here, plus the stories I’ve heard and photographs I’ve seen relating to my stepfathers ancestors and the gradual creation of their personal landscape at Dacha. In seeking to understand my visceral response to significant places, his writing is probably most significant.
Christopher Tilley
In his book ‘A Phenomenology of Landscape: places paths and monuments’ (Tilley, 1994) Tilley argues for landscape being an embodied experience – our body is the primary way that we engage with the world. Slightly differing from Ingold’s perspective, who emphasises more of a ‘doing over sensing’ approach. Tilley’s philosophy proposes we engage with it through being in it; through perception (seeing, hearing, touching), bodily actions and movements, and intentionality, emotion and awareness residing in systems of belief and decision making, remembrance and evaluation’ (p12) So, landscape then, is an experience, not just an observation, as far as Tilley is concerned. It becomes known through sequences of movement and memory with its past shaping its present and future in our minds. Tilleys arguments mirror the philosophy of Merleau-Ponty , whose emphasis is on perception, movement and being in the world.
To show my understanding of his book, I have included my entry for the annotated bibliography I completed for 7802, to view in its original context, refer to p32 in my Notions of Home Essay:
“This book by Professor of Anthropology, Christopher Tilley, combines insights from phenomenological discourse in ‘philosophy, ..anthropology, human geography and..archaeology’ (Tilley, 1994, p1) At the starting point of the book he interrogates ‘theoretical perspective on the significance of spaces, places and landscapes’(Tilley, 1994, p1) referencing well established phenomenological research (Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty) to establish the significance of the topic, then for the second half of the book Tilley examines an ancestral relationship & perception of place within landscape, using evidence from civilisations in Wales and Southern England. He illustrates with examples of Mesolithic material finds as evidence of those ancestors identifying with place in relation to its setting and conversely, the Neolithic understanding of landscape was in terms of relationship, shown with the setting of monuments. The spatial relationships and topographical aspects discussed in this book, offer rational explanation of my own interest and sense of place within the area I work. It is an area that is rich with cultural heritage and an informed understanding of these sites will provide a fundamental aspect of understanding my own practice in relation to landscape photography” (Taylor, 2024: p32)
There is an overwhelming amount of information and inspiration relating to mindful practices, online and in print. I have tried to be specific in my research. The key readings, terms, critical theory listed here, have all influenced my work and offer some explanation for how I have arrived at this point for my final major project. My hope is that the project will be a clear culmination of all my research and practice so far. Much of the critical theory I have researched and written about before and therefore I won’t repeat myself, although I have detailed my previous essays and blog entries where relevant below, as these writings continue to inform my practice.
Key readings and terms:
Miksang: Tibetan term, meaning ‘pure eye’ in relation to contemplative photography – to see without overlays of meaning and value. Without judgement or opinion, ie no association or preconception
Epoché – Edmund Husserls word for a suspension of judgment, a pause in our habitual thinking, the aim being to see things just as they are. This term is often debated but regardless, it serves me well in trying to remove the thoughts crowding my mind
John Berger Ways of Seeing (in relation to Magritte’s Key of Dreams) ‘Cultural Construction’ Sense of sight: seeing comes before words. We are culturally conditioned to see the world with descriptions. I have used this to demonstrate what I am trying to push back against.
Wabi Sabi – Japanese philosophy that celebrates the beauty and simplicity of imperfection and transcience
Henri Cartier Bresson – The Decisive moment. described the act of photographing as an intuitive and contemplative gesture.
Jon Kabat Zin – Mindfulness based stress reduction (he introduced mindfulness practices into medical, educational and personal conexts in the West)
Herman Hesse ‘Siddhartha’ – a novel about a man on a spiritual journey of self discovery, themes of religion (buddhism) and mindfulness throughout.
Notions of Home – Lucinda Taylor. (see file below and also in seperate post) This is my autoethnographic essay for Research and Context. I have added it here as it contains much of the critical theory that has informed my practice to this point. Although I have referenced some of this theory again (below, in other areas of the blog and in my reflective essay) I’ve avoided repeating too much of what I have done previously.
Critical writings (ongoing study and analysis) essential reading for my theme
The Perception of the Environment – Tim Ingold – Previously studied for 7801 and 7803, section on The Temporality of the Landscape – he determines that Landscapes are not things we look at but worlds we live in. They are shaped by movement, memory, work, and natural processes over time. To understand a landscape, we must attend to its temporality—the rhythms and practices through which it continually comes into being.
Christopher Tilley – A Phenomenology of Landscape: places paths and monuments – Tilleys work aligns with the views of Ingold, in so far as he argues for landscape being an emodied experience – we engage with it through being in it; walking, seeing, sensing & hearing. Landscape is an experience, not just an observation, it becomes known through sequences of movement and memory with its past shaping its present and future in our minds. These ideas validate my own experiences and I know that the photographs I am making, are my attempt to convey this view.
Martin Heidigger
Buttimer and Seamon
Edwards Relph
Yi Fu Tuan
Maurice Merleau-Ponty – phenomenological idea that we perceive the world not from a detached point of view but from the centre of it, through our moving, sensing, breathing selves (it is clear to see where Tilley has been inspired) The body is simply a bridge between self and world.
In relation to how an otherwise unconnected space becomes something more personal, Yi Fu Tuan states that space becomes place through experience, memory, and attachment (ref). By understanding that identity is created through repeated encounters of places, i.e. the landscape that I grew up in, I have some explanation for my initial question of why I am so drawn to the landscapes described above.
Landscape is an ideal construct in which to analyse the self. ‘…the most optimal occasion for meditating on the unity of the self . . . Landscape, in this way of thinking, is an exemplary encounter with subjectivity’ (DeLue and Elkins 2008:103)
To further this, in ‘Place and Placelessness’ Edward Relphs writes ‘Home is the foundation of our identity as individuals and members of a community, the dwelling-place of being. Home is not just the house you happen to live in, but an irreplaceable centre of significance’ (Relphs online)
Using simple but well known methods to ground ourselves in a subject, utilising the well know Buddhist philosophy of a ‘beginners mind’ enables us to notice beauty and close out the world around and be authentically present, recognising the simplicity.
Example of Phenomenological writing – ‘I sat on a rock and ate cheese sandwiches – and thought I was perfectly happy, It was so huge. And so wild and so empty and so free.…And there, quite suddenly and unexpectedly, I slipped a gear, or something like that. There was not me and the landscape, but a kind of oneness; a connection as though my skin had been blown off. More than that – as though the molecules and atoms that the rest of the world is made of. I felt absolutely connected to everything. It was very brief, but it was a total moment…. This ‘gift’ is experienced as both integrative – the whole self engaged and known to itself, to the subject, in quite a new way – and as connecting that self to something larger’ (Maitland: 2008, p63)
I have researched Thomas Merton because of his methodology in photography and his unique way of seeing and understanding the world. This piece of research has helped me understand the key principles behind contemplative, mindful creative practice and how it can be inter disciplined, combining writing, art and physical activity such as walking. He was a Trappist monk, based at Gethsemani in Kentucky and discovered photography in the last decade of his life, on the back of his prolific production of books (50 in 27 years) He paradoxically, perhaps, took up photography as a way to satisfy his need for simplicity and stillness.
Because he would have taken a vow of stability, he would have been limited to contemplate subjects in the hermitage and the immediate vicinity, his search for photographs was part of a highly developed visual awareness that revealed itself when in an intense contemplative state of mind. It is perhaps unsurprising that photography became a tool with which to study his world in fine detail.
He continued his journaling and writing alongside his photographic practice which means that there is a wealth of insight into his thoughts and wonderings directly related to this. I find this useful because where I have read plenty from nature writers, they are not typically engaged in a related pursuit. For example, in one journal entry, he details that instead of reading a Zen anthology, he was too distracted by his ‘dream camera’ as he kept seeing curious things to shoot instead. he said ‘the whole place is full of fantastic and strange subjects – a mine of zen photography‘ (Hamrick, 2020: online) further to this in another entry, he says “Marvelous, silent, vast spaces around the old buildings…Cold, pure light, and some grand trees…. How the blank side of a frame house can be so completely beautiful I cannot imagine” (Hamrick, 2010) so we can garner from these words just how invested he was in paying close attention to his surroundings.
Paul Pearson is the director of the Thomas Merton centre at Bellarmine University in Kentucky. He has edited a book ‘Beholding Paradise, The Photography of Thomas Merton’ (Pearson, 2020) In this he discusses how Merton is ‘inseeing‘ which is a concept by Rilke, inspired by Rodin and interpreted by Merton as ‘an inner event in the person who sees it, and it takes place in this encounter with something else, not just a subjective thing…our own existence is revealed to us, along with the meaning of our own life’ (p133) It seems to me that this description epitomises the act of mindful, contemplative thinking. Mertons words summarise this a ‘Visio Divinia’ meaning seeing, rather than just looking so that the essence of the thing is revealed to the viewer.
For anyone seeking to absorb themselves in the simplicity of things, the book provides a fascinating insight into a man who as well as being a master at contemplation and mindful practice, had plenty of humour, liked a beer or two and mused and wondered about the marvel of life. Many of his poems and essays are thought provoking, although obviously plenty of reference to a God that I don’t believe in does sometimes detract from the enjoyment for me, so I do read his work through a slightly different lens to the one he may have intended.
NB all images displayed are for analysis under the terms of fair useand belong to Merton Legacy Trust
Iain Sarjeant’s project ‘The Pool’ centres around a small pond in his garden. The body of work he produced from this, are a series of close, detailed shots of selected elements of the pool. I think he successfully presents his subject beyond the ordinary by giving time and patience to his process.
The resulting photographs are like a labyrinth of flora, with a mix of sharply detailed leaves & branches, sometimes shown in shadow or as reflections, some elements are very blurry within the frame as his shallow depth of field emphasises his close proximity to his subjects. You feel he has nestled himself in to his environment, which creates a sense of immersion and a meditative aspect to the work. He says himself that ‘By singling out and focusing on individual elements, these complex and competing patterns are simplified and a sense of depth created‘ (https://iain-sarjeant.format.com/the-pool) which is a useful quote to think about when making my own work.
I recall the work of Nicholas Hughes and Susan Derges, both of whom I researched for 7803. I was immediately drawn to the ambiguity in their work. Both very different; Hughes photographs beautiful scenes of trees, undergrowth and foliage, then overlays the image with a nightsky for example. Derges makes photograms by submerging photosensitive paper in her local river at night, releasing a flash, resulting in a photograph of the ‘underneath’ ie just below the surface of the water. I see similarities between all three in these photographs by Sarjeant. I think it is the way that the light on the surface picks up the ripples in the water and the patterns made by the leaves and grasses seem to resemble Hughes’ work. It is difficult to know which way is up, which makes them ambiguous. I like this work a lot, it is an aesthetic and working method (contemplative, repeated study of a place) that resonates.
Nikon D850 with 105mm fixed lens, 24-70mm wide and 50mm prime.
As Autumn creeps in, the landscape was beginning to change. I paid close attention to the water levels here because they had not recovered after such a long dry summer. It is the first time my step father remembers it being so low for so long. Interestingly, the swan mussels presence indicate good water quality, I would have assumed that the lack of rain might have contributed to its decline but I wonder if with there being no agricultural run off from the hill it has actually given the environment chance to recover. I admit, this is unscientific on my part but it is a passing thought as I watch the water.
I am working in the open space today. I feel quite exposed, as ordinarily I am hidden under the tree canopy but I feel I need to invest time in the other areas of the landscape which I usually pass up. The sky feels heavy with rain and it does come but not enough. I tried to catch it in the pond with lillypads, it only just breaks the surface, seeming to almost evaporate before it arrives. Its still warm.
The wind has picked up a little and I notice the reeds moving back and forth in unison. The red and yellow appears flame like, they are striking against the otherwise green and brown landscape. The same is true of the orange spruce. I don’t know the story of this young tree but it stands as though watching me, its strangely comforting. Its bright colour is bold against the rest of the scene. Most of the water birds are nowhere to be seen, I did spy a small group of ducks under the canopy but they all made their escape as they heard my approach. I liked how they had found a shallow area of rock and shingle just peeking above the water line under the trees, there was also a small patch of light coming through which seemed to illuminate them as they sat. I tried to photograph them but in my clumsy attempt, I disturbed them all.
I experimented with movement, for the orange spruce, I panned the camera slightly to create a painted effect. It feels too contrived though and not in the spirit of mindful practice. I like the movement in the reeds though, they move themselves as I leave a slightly longer exposure. I did spend a good couple of hours here, absorbed in my surroundings and practicing just ‘being’. It feels odd at the moment and I hope that this will change. It is meant to be a ‘practice’ after all.
As I’ve outlined, I have consistently explored themes around family, memory, sense of place but I’ve yet to fully realise my potential in this area. I think that in employing this approach, I’d be able to manifest clearly my thoughts and feelings about ‘place’ beyond representation, providing deeper meaning around an image and in turn, creating a more emotional body of work.
The problem. With the daily busyness of life in general; the pressures and stresses of tasks and deadlines, messy calendars and unexpected changes to routines and schedules, I find it extremely difficult to sit in a space and observe, quietly and patiently, my surroundings. All too often, those places aren’t fully seen by me, as the never ending task list works its way like a ticker tape parade through my mind, I can barely tell you what I looked at, after the event. My biggest successes have tended to be the result of dedicating more time and thought to my observations. To solve this problem, I needed to learn about mindful practice and so searched for relevant materials on the subject.
The most useful source I came across, is The Mindful Photographer by Sophie Howarth (2023) in the university library. (I have now bought myself a copy) It has been a key guide to this process, although its ideas are broad, the principles are applicable in any specific scenario and it also revealed to me how the wider uses of this therapeutic method could offer benefits beyond just my own immediate concerns. For example, Howarth refers to The New Economics Foundation, stating that “[NEF] is a think tank focussed on redesigning the economy to work better for both people and planet, they identify 5 evidence based actions that are foundational for individual health and wellbeing, Paying mindful attention to our surroundings, is one of them” (p8) She goes on to say that while improving personal wellbeing is a good reason to develop the skills of mindful practice, there is also a case for larger social value. The world and us are more distracted than ever, as I’ve stated elsewhere, there are immense challenges faced across the world and with our attention being pulled in all directions, we are rarely looking closely or attentively at anything. Many credible sources, including the mental health charity MIND , show there is a significant mental health crisis in the UK, which continues to decline and although there are many explanations as to why that might be, whatever the reason, mindful creative acts have the potential to offer some relief. “…mindfulness has gained widespread interest precisely because states of distraction, anxiety, suffering, and lack of connection are so common and detrimental. As society veers toward more chaotic, techno-centric, globally connected and distracted modes, mindfulness offers an antidote to internalised unrest —particularly for learners who face ever expanding sources of difficulty from stress and distraction”.(Henrikson et al, 2020: p2)
The book is split into chapters as follows:
There are practices throughout each chapter which has served to guide me in establishing mindful techniques. Small tasks are set for each chapter. My experience of the most useful of these are listed below, these form the basis of the physical aspects of my project:
Basic meditation. The foundational practice for mindfulness, where I simply found a comfortable space to just sit and be, without any interruptions, for 10 minutes. Although it is a requirement to be comfortable and relaxed, the discipline of sitting straight is at first difficult! I realise how much time I spend in terrible posture. Strangely, by reminding myself to ‘sit up straight’ my mind wonders back to my ballet classes during my earlier years and so I take this thought and literally, dance my way through the next few minutes. Its a strangely blissful moment. Then I bring my mind back to the here and now, trying to stay focussed, my thoughts keep wondering but Howarth says, not to push them away or engage. I just let them wonder through my mind. I focus on breath as much as possible, this seems to stop my mind veering off all over the place. After the allotted ten minutes, I do feel centred and relaxed, I am less anxious and my mind seems to be calmer.
Being Like Water. “the mind that is too full of effort, desire and expectation leaves little space for creative response“(p78) explains the barriers to mindful creativity very well I think. I am absolutely guilty of overthinking my practical work and outcomes. I think this is why learning a more mindful approach will ultimately revolutionise my practice. Practicing feeling, thinking and seeing over doing can only serve to bring about a more authentic body of work. I accept that I will make judgements on composition and will even choose favourable conditions but I believe there can be a balance. The ‘being like water’ comes from Taoism ‘wu-wei’ which is translated as ‘effortless action’ or ‘going with the flow’ and was a term made popular in Western cultures by Bruce Lee, when he says to a fictional character “Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.” (online) I found the practices I tried for AD7803 to be useful in this, by allowing nature to guide instead of being controlled by me.. for example, in making cyanotypes and photograms I am giving up control to the elements to a great extent. Moving around the pathways and following the shape of the land, all come into play here. I think about this a lot now when I am walking and immersing myself in the landscape.
The Beginners Eye. Howarth uses the ‘childs eye’ to break habitual ways of viewing. She talks about games such as ‘I Spy’ except with variations, rather than something beginning with a letter, use ‘things in pairs, broken things, two circles together… etc’ where you need to ask questions and look at everything around you in much more detail. It gives new perspectives on familiar things. Using different perspectives is another aspect to adopting a beginners eye, looking from the ground up: ‘How many colours are there in a field of grass to the crawling baby unaware of green”? Stan Brakhage so to imagine things without labels, although challenging when we can’t help but name everything, is a start to seeing without preconceptions. Without a camera, I practiced by looking closely at a plant, I stared for a while (I notice that after a while I stop labelling it) and then looked at it from table level, then upside down. I let my vision blur (awkward with contact lenses!) and tried to think of how else this ‘object’ might be presented, other than the conventional. To reset from each time I kept judging or thinking, I used my eyes like a slow shutter and blinked.
Photo ‘fishing‘. The purpose of this exercise as far as I can tell, is to take photographs almost at random, so removing any preconceived ideas about compostion, edit, end result etc. Letting go of the idea of perfection and simply recording what I see. I had come to a spot where a very large branch from a tree had fallen, so I just decided to spend a few moments there and would photograph based on an intuitive response to the newly created shape. I spent a few minutes at first, closing my eyes and feeling the sunshine on my face. I tried not to overthink and actually distracted my mind by humming a tune! These are 4 images from that walk. Each spot I would take a moment to try and empty my mind a little and reject the concerns over final results. It was a helpful exercise in learning to let go of perfection and end results and in doing so, being able to become more present in the moment.
Written word. I had planned to practice this by noting down the words, sensations and sounds, in place; Japanese Haiku poetry is one way I could do this, although I am not practiced in it at all, it is a useful way to record what I see and sense, in a way they are like verbal snapshots of a place and whilst traditionally they were often humorous and use in games of oneupmanship, the principles of ‘say what you see’ are useful in mindfulness practice. 17th century poet Basho, arguably the most famous of Haiku poets, is used as inspiration here:
“The old pond— a frog jumps in, sound of water.” —Basho
A very literal description of a moment / experience. Our own experiences tell us that the frog has created the sound of the water and so we draw on our own memories. This is a useful way to engage with audience, to help them to see what might be heard, seen and felt at the time. These are the poems I have written when reflecting on my shoots. Not typically done ‘in place’ but they are a summary of the things I notice when immersed in the environment.
Rocks and stones, algae marking their age, indigo water patient, enduring, unbound time settles here.
The leaves fall, dancing down into the depths, floating, descending light flickers on the surface in perfect rhythm as if to applaud their final show
lichen clings to nature, decorating rocks, branches and tree trunks deep emerald greens, soft grey blues and ochre yellows, serving as colourful timestamps, reminding me to embrace it all.
winter coats the lake frozen images, as though printed on satin, hold soft light silence reigns, I hear myself, Just living, breathing in place. Trees are looking down at me, their branches hiding the tiny spies who watch my every move.
Seeing. In Edward Husserl’s ‘Epoché’ theory, he says that things are not as we see them, we are bogged down in language and our own judgement. Similarly, John Berger discusses in ‘Ways of Seeing’ how our own personal history shapes what and how we see, which can make it difficult to truly ‘see’ something for what it is. In order to change my preconceived ideas and knowledge about an object then, I would need to ‘train my gaze’, which is where mindfulness techniques will come in. I hope that in adopting a beginners mind, I can better reveal an essence of a place or ‘thing’.
Uta Barth offers a unique visual experience, inviting viewers to look at self and, in some of her works, is an exploration in to domestic absorption. I researched her work for part of my BA and used this approach to photograph some otherwise mundane objects and features within my own domestic space. The photographs I made back then are among some of my favourite images, perhaps because the way they transform from the unremarkable into something mysterious and dreamlike, which mirrors the experience of meditation.
In Barth’s ‘In Between Places’ book, there are many examples of domestic spaces to street scenes and rural spaces. Her best known work is that which she refers to as the ‘space in between’ with the focus being on empty space, rather than the expected subject, reinforcing the idea of experiencing mediation. The photograph below (Fig 1) is the one which caught my attention because whilst it is ambiguous, it is also quite clear in what it actually is. A car with headlights on, driving towards the viewer (the colour of the lights can determine this) and the colour palette for rest of the scene suggests a grey, rainy afternoon, the reflection of the car headlights on the ground, tells me this. It could of course be a different time of day but my own experiences lead me immediately to afternoon / early evening.
Fig 1
The same hazy effect is created when we stare at something for too long and our focus blurs, like a visual representation of pausing in thought .
Many of Barth’s photographs have a painterly appeal. For example, the photograph below, which appeas to be a corner of a room (Fig 2 ) with a partially revealed window to the left, is reminiscent of Vermeer’s milkmaid painting (Fig 3) whether this was deliberately so, I’ve not discovered but the similarities can’t be denied with the position of the window and the corner of the room. The blurred image creates a chalky, soft texture which only adds to the idea of it being inspired by such a painting. Intentional or not, it shows that creativity is rooted in past experiences. Through moments of pause, deep breaths, and mindful awareness, we can reconnect with those inner resources and shape them into our own masterpieces.
Fig 2Fig 3Fig 4. Fig 5
To further this, I note this photo (Fig 4) which I took for a previous module. This was inspired by, I now see, Uta Barth’s photograph in Fig 5. My photograph was taken from my bathroom window and although it appeas as though a sectin of glass is missing, its actually condensation (its a very old house!) with just enough of a clear gap in the glass to see the trees at the top of the first climb onto Bredon Hill from my village. I take this route several times a week and often look up from this window to the trees in recognition, then staring back to the house when I reach them.
Uta Barth’s photographs had an impact on my work from the earliest point in my creative studies. I reflect on this often and I am grateful that I discovered her images, this was a point where I could see how I could creative metaphor in my photography to add potency and dimension to my images.
Lucinda Taylor 