Much of the work I document concerns my creative choices surrounding my body of work and how these works fit into an exhibition. I recognise that this simplifies what went on in the process of designing my final major project and how potential choices of a book, zine or newspaper fitted into my project. An important piece of peer feedback from Barry Rourke and later on echoed by Giorgio Colanna concerned using books to show my work rather than an exhibition. The thought process behind this was that the pace of a book, of looking at an individual page of text or an image then turning the page, was a good way to approach my subject and to allow my audience time and provide a way to separate works. I had produced some photo books in the past using self-design books passed to printers but was far from satisfied with the final product. I started to investigate photo books, looking at the work of a previous student, Helen Rosemier, who devoted lots of her energies to creating a very fine self-published book. I started to look at the production of a book. In this, I was interested in the technicalities around this choice as well as how my final project might look and feel if I were to present my work as a book or as an exhibition, perhaps with some kind of zine or newspaper which my audience could hold and look at away from the gallery. Helen’s work represented an extreme, in my opinion, as regards the time and expense she devoted to this part of her project. Her crowd funding for this work reached over £10,000 before she was finished with this project. Her extensive work considering the choices of paper, text, picture layout, blank pages, cover design, materials and the decisions around self-publishing and funding these choices had to be balanced against the option of passing on some of the responsibility for the design of the book and with it, some of the creative choices, to an established print firm. Her final work is very beautiful and poignant, but this didn’t immediately point me in the direction of producing a coffee table book for my own body of work. At some level, I was daunted by the time Helen put into this element of her final project, but more than that, I questioned whether a book was the right creative choice for showing my work.

Some posts relating to Helen’s book, including the funding for this work and a review of the book are shown below:

https://helenrosemier.wordpress.com/2023/10/01/understanding-photobooks-jorg-colberg

https://helenrosemier.wordpress.com/2023/10/21/photobooks-more-research

https://www.thehippyhippo.co.uk/2024/04/12/book-review-zones-of-possibility-helen-rosemier/

https://crowdfundr.com/zones-of-possibility?ref=ab_0Kl63TbZkVp0Kl63TbZkVp

I looked at a series of books of different styles and quality.

Firstly, a small book I found during my artist’s residency called “Silence is Forever”, made in 1990 by Bébert and showing the work of three artists, Jürgen Albrecht, Fred Eerdekens and Klaus Dieter Zimmer. The book is in Dutch and comes from a printer in Rotterdam. It measures 15.5cmx11cm and contains 25 pages, not including blank pages at the beginning and the end. The book contains eight images and eight pages of words. It is hand-stitched and is part of a limited edition of 450 books. The second of my images below shows the hand stitching and the know it the thread. I love how this book feels so comfortable in my hand with the simple choices of the binding, slipcover, text and graphics. It felt that this was very much a simple work which I could attempt although perhaps appearances can be deceptive. I note that the images in the book are monochrome and was concerned that my work, some of which is in colour, would jar with the simplicity of such a book.

I next looked at a book produced by fellow student Mirjam Lorek. This is a lay flat, colour photobook containing 20 stiff backed pages with 18 images or 19 if I include the cover. It measures 15cm x10cm, so it is very similar in size to the Bébert book. It is, however, a world away in terms of the emotional impact of the presentation of the artwork and the words. In many ways this reminds me of photobooks I made myself at an earlier part of my photography degree but with a far superior content. I enjoy the content of Mirjam’s book, and her work is very moving, yet for some reason, the book itself leaves me emotionally cold and dissatisfied. There is something too professional maybe. Perhaps too glossy and stiff.The content and the presentation seem to conflict with one another.

Still looking for inspiration, I was given a zine by John Burns titled “Clare with the Pig.” This measures 21cm x 15cm, so it is larger than the other 2. It doesn’t feel in any way cramped and includes blank pages The zine contains 30 images and one page of text spread over 45 pages. John tells me that this zine was printed at Mixam using an inkjet printer. The zine is held together using staples. The book is very fine and presents an expression of the pathos of his mother’s life seen through the house she lived in before moving to a care home. I think the zine is very successful. I wonder, however, at the number of images. My final project for my exhibition contains just eight images, a video work and an installation. How would I expand on this offering to fill such a book, and in so doing, might this dilute my narrative and the force behind my story?

I looked at a series of paper and digital samples of newspapers from the Glasgow Newspaper Club. I like the look and feel of the digital tabloid in 80gsm bright recycled paper.  To me, with a few images and some words, the newspaper provides me with the best option of accompanying my exhibition.

Lastly, I ordered a copy of Helen Rosemier’s book. The quality of this work shines through as does the effort spent in the construction of such a work. It is truly a work of art. The emotional impact in the high quality photographs and their presentation is haunting and powerful.

As I write this, my opinion today is that John’s zine and the small book by Bébert have a similar impact.

Conclusion. I admit that the effort and cost of making a photobook frightens me, but more than that, I wonder if this is the best way to present my final project. I read Anna Sellen’s padlet in the Graduate Case Study section of the coursework. She placed a very relevant quote regarding an exhibition and, by inference, the choice of the production of a photobook

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that exhibiting work is important, however, the steps leading to exhibiting work – including but not limited to editing, sizing, printing, editioning, pricing, transporting, framing, hanging – are all important for your professional practice.” (Michael Dooney, 2021)

There is an important difference between an exhibition and a book. An exhibition, put onto the walls of a gallery for a few weeks and then taken back down, has a temporality and lack of permanence, which seems to resonate with the story behind my work and with life itself being temporary and ending in death. A high-quality photobook has none of this and is solid and permanent. Having said this, I do feel that some kind of memento of my project is suitable and appropriate. I think of a friend’s recent funeral and the order of service with photographs and words celebrating his life.

Some kind of permanent reminder that my exhibition was real and took place but is now no more. This idea seems similar to that of life. In my examples, the three I am most drawn to are the magazine and the zines by Bébert and John Burns.

Although I have rejected the production of a photobook preferring an exhibition, in addition to my choice as regards the exhibition, there are other printed materials which I think sit well alongside the exhibition and will compliment my work.

I show below some test pieces which I have been working on which will form the front page of my newspaper and also act as a poster for my exhibition. Some of these use images directly from my exhibition, in some I started to experiment with my exhibition title. I took a print and set fire to it and then layered some ash with my picture. I then photographed the ash left behind after my experiment and used this in some of my poster/newspapers trials.

I have revised this document many times as something about it hasn’t sat well with me and has been niggling away in my head. Even when I drove to the far north of Scotland, I took my computer and a copy of the text, which I continued to work on.

My latest version is shown below:

“My project is a deeply personal and emotional exploration of the spaces between life and death inspired by my daughter’s eighteen-month journey through cancer to her death and by my own parallel journey as I watched her die and tried to cope with life without her. Scatter is a project born from the desire to make sense of loss, which might, in some small way, contribute to the understanding of grief in society. Initially, I had no plan to show this project, but the healing process demanded that I reveal it and not lock it away in the dark. The artworks I have created to explore my experiences have the potential to provide others with a way to delve into their own depths of sorrow. I believe that grief is not something that can be cured; it is a feeling that never truly leaves us. However, my engagement with death and my gradual acceptance of grief have been enriched by the process of creating this project. Grief and art seem to be a good match; they provide a way to make sense of the raw emotions and turmoil surrounding death.

My daughter’s name was Rebecca. Although Rebecca does not feature directly in this exhibition, her presence runs like a thread through my project.”

I will ask for feedback on this before I settle on the latest version. Even at this late stage, I wonder about the line where I state that my project might contribute to the understanding of societal grief. Is this too bold a claim and should I remove it? Are these words and meaning repeated when I say that my experiences have potential to allow others to engage with their sense of sorrow?

Late change. My picture featuring a cliff was taken in Ireland and shows the Cliffs of Moher. While this fitted with my purposes at the time I made this, the starting point for this piece wasn’t my work, regardless that I have shaped and changed the work many times. For my exhibition, it would simplify permissions if I just used my own work. I therefore researched some similar cliffs in terms of height, shape and approachability, looking to replicate the typology of the original piece. I found several places to visit in the far north of Scotland and planned a short trip. The cliffs I chose are near Thurso, Wick and John O’Groats. This is a 6-hour drive from home. Two days before my trip, my father died. This changed my trip as the time on my own in the car and out with the camera would become time for introspection. Lots of time to think about my work and the deaths of those close to me and of my research and creative efforts working alongside the sense of loss. It is also interesting to consider that the end of my degree studies could also be thought of as a time of loss. My father wanted to leave his body to medical research, so there is no funeral going to happen anytime soon. His body will be sent to Dundee University, and we are told that the funeral could be up to two years in the future. My sister wants some kind of ceremony to mark his passing, but to me, this feels odd. There is no funeral, no body, no wake, no gathering. It’s just a social media post suggesting we all light a candle and listen to hymns on YouTube. All with the knowledge that a real funeral is yet to happen. I don’t have a huge sense of grief right now, but maybe that will come. When I have a long drive or am working with the camera, my mind can wander, and this loss will be high up in my consciousness, and who knows what paths I might go down: memories of my father or family, ideas around my body of work which trigger other creative possibilities or thoughts of my future research or studies or of work in my chosen field of death studies or more.

Below, I show the original work from Ireland and two images which are very close to my original idea. In the original, the cliffs appear very white and darken towards the bottom. I have copied this idea in my first example, although not an exact replica. The texture of the rockface in these two attempts is very close. I note that in this example, the cliff edge was fenced off and it wouldn’t have been safe to attempt to cross the fence and try to descend the cliff I was on so as to change my perspective on this cliff I was photographing. For this reason I used AI within Photoshop to create a horizon close to where the horizon appeared in the original shot I used. I also chose a third piece, which has a different feel and where the darkness at the base of the cliffs is delivered through shadow from a nearby rock face captured in the low winter sun. Note that the third piece is in landscape format rather than portrait. The portrait format helps to emphasise the height and the drop of the cliffs.

Note that in these two test pieces, I have not added the child to the top of the cliff. I will decide on whether to do this just before I get my final selection printed.

I will ask for feedback on these works. The second test piece is the most obvious choice, yet there is something appealing about the final example, too.

I cannot overstate how important my understanding of the order and narrative has been to the process of building my exhibition. The feeling developed from insights gained during my artist’s residency in July and through subsequent discussions with my tutor that my narrative was unclear. I used my growing awareness about this narrative to test my project, which helped me to recognise where there might be gaps in my sequence and where several works conveyed the same message. I tested my growing appreciation of the flow needed to present my work successfully with feedback sessions with my peers and with my tutor.

I recognise that as I write about my narrative, the changes to my visual works and, later, to the titles attached to these works and to the introductory text, some of these changes have been subtle, especially as I near the end of my degree. Some of the works I have made have found their place in my sequence and need little manipulation, while some pieces felt wrong for different reasons, whether this was due to duplication of the message, the position within my sequence, whether the text describing the work needed tweaked and occasionally some creative work needed to be redone or pictures reshot. I will show below a final iteration of my exhibition but will include earlier choices and highlight why I changed my mind.

The initial work to introduce my project shows a hospital corridor with the white light of a doorway reflected and amplified in the floor at the far end of the corridor. I was fairly sure that this piece should be the first work in my sequence, and even the title did not change as my course approached the end. This gave my project a good foundation for choices to come. This work is titled “Hospital time runs very slowly”.

My second artwork shows a view from Rebecca’s hospital room, looking over the hospital buildings towards the Edinburgh skyline. Anyone familiar with Edinburgh will recognise this view, and anyone not familiar with the city should recognise that I show a typical hospital block. Early versions of this picture had a child placed on the roof of the building, echoing my idea in a later image featuring a cliff. However, I recognised that the height or shape of the building was not the important part of this element in my sequence, but instead, the view tied with my title, “My view”. This title has changed a few times as I slowly came to appreciate how these words, if more refined, helped the concept behind the image. Earlier titles included “View from my daughter’s hospital room” Later on, I rationalised how I referred to my daughter after feedback pointed out that sometimes I called her Rebecca and sometimes my daughter.

My third image acts as a pair with image two. I added this to my sequence as I started to question my narrative, trying to identify gaps. Initially, my tutor questioned why I had included this image as I wasn’t clear about what I was showing. At that time, my image was titled “Bedside Table” which was too descriptive and didn’t hint at any of the real story behind this work. The counterpoint between these two images is that one looks outward from the hospital towards the horizon from a standing position, while this image is about Rebecca’s perspective, confined to her bed for a huge amount of time because of the pain of her cancer. Much later, I changed the title of this work to “Rebecca’s View”

The fourth artwork is a new work I shot for this project late into the process of making sense of my narrative. This work shows a memory box Rebecca filled with objects precious to her when she knew she was dying. The box is under the bed in the spare room, tucked away out of sight. I have never opened her memory box. This work was initially titled “Memory Box” and came later on in my sequence. I experimented with this image in colour before deciding black and white best suited my purpose. A later piece of feedback told me that this black and white image was the first in my sequence when Rebecca was dea and was the first without colour. I hadn’t considered this so a valuable insight. Before this image, I was experimenting with an image of a get-well-soon card and a straight image showing the warning light outside the room where Rebecca received radiotherapy. Feedback told me that the warning sign was too descriptive and simple without leaving any room for my audience to make their own choices. I never pursued the work with the get-well-soon card as it felt too contrived to me and my project turned to a very harsh level of editing and stripping out all which was unnecessary or didn’t work perfectly in my sequence. The memory box work became “I Have Never Taken the Lid Off Rebecca’s Memory Box”

Rejected images at this stage of my narrative.

As I write this description, it is clear to me that I was unclear on how to close my project. I have made many changes to this part of my sequence, including my images and the text. There are works that I included for a long time, but I couldn’t find a compelling reason to fit these into my narrative and eventually rejected them. Such works include my selection of found album images and a memorial locket, which I show below:

Artwork five was my image of a cliff. At the top of the cliff, I placed a small child. I took a stock picture of a cliff and shaped and coloured it on my computer before eventually, happy with my work, going on to research similar sites so I could take such a shot myself and avoid any complications of using someone else’s work in my exhibition. This was originally a diptych, but I responded to feedback and asked myself if I could simplify this work without impacting the story it tells. It shows the mixture of discomfort expressed through fear of heights yet, at the same time, shows a happy child with arms spread as if welcoming this abyss and the liminal space at the border of life and death. My original title for this work was “The Abyss” which I changed to “The Precipice”. I have also taken the child out of my current shot as the cliff would seem to tell the story both with or without the child.

I note that in this example, the cliff edge was fenced off and it wouldn’t have been safe to attempt to cross the fence and try to descend the cliff so as to change my perspective. For this reason I used AI within Photoshop to create a horizon..

[Artwork 6]

As my work progressed, a natural divide developed between straight pictures, such as a hospital corridor or the memory box, and more conceptual pieces. Artwork six is my final ‘straight’ piece, although I had a further four pieces which were originally part of my sequence which I later removed. The woollen image came from a collaboration. The wool represents gifts given to newborn babies. I later realised that, while I liked this image, there was no fit with my narrative. Similarly, my image exploring memory showing a park bench. The other two photographs imagine a view from the banks of the River Styx as I explored what it might look like gazing into the liminal space. I finally rejected these as my image of the cliff replicated the message in these two works.

My sixth piece for my exhibition is my video work of falling ash. Rebecca’s ashes were scattered from a bridge where she had made her only bungee jump. Her doctors refused to allow her permission to do another jump when she was ill. The scattering of her ashes was a symbol of Rebecca’s last bungee jump. I shot this several times, sometimes using stones collected from the river under the bridge and then simplifying this work. I changed the rate at which the video sequence played, and after feedback that the ash looked like icing sugar, I darkened this work. This work will play on a loop in my exhibition. I have questioned whether to show work on a monitor or to project it on the wall. My preferred choice is a projection, placing the projector where my audience can get between the projector and the screen, and so become part of my artwork. This work is called “Scatter”.

Although I had experimented with this piece, it wasn’t originally part of my major project. Initially, I didn’t think a video piece would work in my chosen gallery. This only came into scope when I showed it to others and asked them for feedback, which forced me to think again about this piece. When I thought more about this work, I realized that obstacles and challenges in the gallery space were no reason to exclude this work.

I show a link to the final video below:

My seventh piece has found a place in my exhibition for a long time, although originally, this didn’t have the block of red, which came from me using my home computer with a graphics card that is out of support for current versions of Photoshop. When editing, sometimes the graphics card would throw out glitches over which I had no control. This element of losing control felt like death itself, which, for most, is a sudden thing. This explains the title of this work, “The Abruptness of Death”  The work started out as a found image bought on an online auction site. I edited this work, trying to create the sense of something uncomfortable and otherworldly before the accident with the graphics card added to this piece.

My next image is another, which uses a photograph I purchased online where the history and story of the child have been lost. I chose this picture as the child looks back over their shoulder at us as if asking a question. I cut the child from the original background and placed it on a black background, then added a sense of supernatural light above the child’s head. This idea was inspired by work done by artist Ken Currie.

This child has been part of my sequence, then removed, then added in again in a different form for quite some time. I saw something in the child I wanted to use but didn’t know how. When I saw how my paired images of Rebecca’s view from her bed and my view from the window worked, it occurred to me that there could be another image answering the child’s unspoken question. I titled this work “Are You Coming?”

This image, titled “Soon,” helped me make sense of the child in my previous work. I shot it at a gig where I was interested in the light playing over the audience. I took this photograph as the crowd looked the same way towards the stage as if they all had but one mind. I then simplified the light on the stage to make it similar to the light I used above the child’s head in my previous work.

Artwork 10

My final work is an installation of a see-saw. This is made from a length of scaffold board and an old hinge, which I sourced and had sent to me. I have passed this to the local blacksmith to do some remedial work and make it more steady for a gallery setting, as I didn’t want it falling on anyone. The base for this piece weighs in excess of 37kg.  I originally titled this work “Letting Go”, and while I like this title, my tutor introduced a different thought in that I might consider leaving this piece untitled as a suitable way to end my project, my exhibition and my studies at the OCA.

A composite image of the base and the scaffold board is shown below: