PHOTOGRAPHY
It seems that every time I try to explain why I make typologies, I feel compelled to explain the process of how they are made. This is because the experience of assembling each design motivates me to return to this style of working. The process of building a typology is where the excitement begins. When capturing images, I’m often acting upon impulse, whilst the creation of the grid is reactive to the changing needs of the typology. I never quite feel in control of a typology until it is completed. Each typology is a unique design challenge. I began using repetition as a design element whilst studying for my art degree in the late 90s. At the time I didn’t own a computer and I created collages using a black and white photocopier, scissors, and glue. I gridded photographs of manhole covers and made photographic grids of the television using multiple exposures in colour film. I never consciously decided to become a photographer of typologies. It was a chance photograph of a plastic shopping bag hung in my school photography studio that rekindled this train of thought. I gradually ripped it apart and photographed each stage of its degradation. I had no plan for these images, but it seemed fitting to put them together into a grid. From here I began looking for other objects that could be joined together. My next major piece of work was to photograph the whole school library, which took approximately 300 photographs. I started slotting them together into a square canvas on Photoshop and discovered to my delight that they not only gave the illusion of one giant bookshelf, but also had colour variations depending on whether they were lit by the tungsten library lights or natural light. In addition to this, there was a sense of depth due to some of the books being in the shadows. It was this image that sent me on a ten-year exploration of typologies. Around this time, I discovered the work of Bernd and Hilla Becher, famed for their iconic typologies. Their meticulous understanding of repetition was evident through their consistency in exposure, framing and even their consideration of weather conditions. Seeing their work in person made me value the art of the typology as a tool to elevate images that would typically go unnoticed. Another key discovery was Andreas Gursky: his work showed me the possibilities of scale and an understanding of how digital manipulation can work with real-life observation to make complex photographic designs. What I’ve aimed to do is find a sense of abstraction, whether it be through scale; the removal of context; the proximity of images to create rhythm or even to subtly increase abstraction through desaturation. Some typologies are too abstract to be identified without a title. This for me is not a problem: I have found that many people prefer to decipher what it is they are looking at before being told. As a result of this, I’ve left all titles and dates in the appendix. When I make a typology, I do a quick ‘mock up’ to check that the photography will work together. I make many alterations to the order, along with cropping, exposure, colour adjustment and negative space alterations. I aim to avoid distracting patterns and I may alter the number of squares in the outcome. These all occur as part of the creative process to give the appearance of random distribution of images. You must always intervene to space out images of similar appearance: truly random selections never separate in the way we expect. Making a typology is like making a puzzle that has no predefined image: it reveals itself gradually as you progress. The eye should feel free to roam around and experience the differences with no predetermined pattern and no single image should dominate your attention. As the book progresses, the squares that form my typologies developed into longer rectangular shapes. Within these shapes I join multiple photographs to make compositions where colour and texture can interact. These are subsequently put into a grid in order to increase the abstraction and complexity of the work. This style of working started with cropped photographs of skies which were naturally abstract as they are simple fields of colour. At this point I had moved from the representative starting point of my typologies into something much more related to Abstract Expressionism. Most of my work is based around Bedford where I live. Part of the reason for this is to show that our immediate surroundings are full of subtle variations. The closer you get, the more you understand that everything is unique and increasingly complex. My typologies are just a fraction of the possibilities available. We make patterns to feel safe in the world, it aids our understanding and helps us anticipate the future. We simplify the world to make it feel less of a challenge. Typologies push against this in a gentle way to remind us that each cloud, tree, pencil is unique. This work is a celebration of everything, whilst acknowledging that it only documents a very small part of the world.
