Time to consolidate on the history of cyanotypes
Back in September, I found out that Cyanotype artist Anna Atkins was married to John Pelly Atkins, the son of Alderman John Atkins - a West India merchant and slave owner of several plantations in Jamaica. Atkin’s family received compensation (at the expense of UK taxpayers a debt that was only paid off in 2015 along with other former slave owners) when slavery was legally abolished.
To clarify Atkin’s family received compensation (some of claims made by Atkins family were successful and unsuccessful but this expense alongside other former slave traders was paid at the expense of UK taxpayers, a debt that was only paid off in 2015.) when Slavery Abolition Act was passed in 1833 but came into force 1834. The 1807 Slave Trade Act had legally abolished and prohibited slavery in British Empire, the 1833 Slavery Abolition Act was an expansion on 1807 act and had made it illegal to purchase and own enslaved people. In 1838, the enslaved Black people of Jamaica were emancipated.
This meant that Atkins had access to landscape and plant life in Jamaica, and she was able to document the ecosystems of Jamaica as part of her practice. From reading about Anna Atkins and her work, this fact is never mentioned. Almost glossed over, but an important part of her practice and research that we all needed to think about and reflect upon more. It’s almost as if this has been conveniently left out so as not to besmirch the reputation and legacy of Atkins.
Cyanotypes are an easy and accessible form of cameraless photography, used in schools and across homes and darkrooms across the world, this form of photography allows us to engage with photography and nature at the same time. Cyanotypes also focus on the chemistry of photography whilst creating a romantic and painterly interruption of what’s around us.
However, photography cannot escape the implications of slavery/colonialism within its history. As a technique that came into fruition in the 19th century, it really should not be surprising but actually, it should be expected and we should not be shocked to read and learn about this. Every facet of the UK has been liked to slavery and colonialism and it should be expected. In fact, I would be surprised if other historical photography techniques did not have a similar legacy.
Although I was initially shocked (and embarrassed) that I didn’t know actually thought about destroying these cyanotypes which on reflection would not have changed anything and only added to the horror and rage that I felt about learning this information.
Atkin’s studies of ferns - with 25 of the studies coming from Jamaica show that she was able to benefit from having access to Jamaica’s botanical landscape, the wealth that her husband acquired from slavery meant that Atkin was able to invest and spend time on her practice - creating an archive of work which is still reflected and exhibited widely. I find it strange and awkward that I can learn directly about the botanical history of Jamaica not from Black or Indigenous person but from white middle-class English women. My understanding comes from her gaze and from her archival studies - how strange and jarring processing this information has been for me over the past few months.
Writing this I am taken back to Jamaica Kincaid and her writings about the legacy of slavery and colonialism in Antigua.
After reflecting on this information a bit more I think the history of cyanotypes and Atkin’s deserves to be spoken about more often and with more rigor - how can we find a way of utilising this information to contextualise Atkin and cyanotype technique? I have not made any cyanotypes since I found out about this information.
From now on, I intend to engage with cyanotype with more intention and understanding of its history and the implications it has on my practice. The Artist Tom Pope has done a lot of research into Atkin’s and her cyanotypes practice - very illuminating and provides a lot of contexts.
Interview with Zoe Palmer from the dream(ing) field lab
The dream(ing) field lab started as a way to share different knowledge. systems and to create a space for women and femmes of African heritage. Speaking to Zoe from the dream(ing) field lab felt like a nice end to the artist interviews which I have conducted over the past few months. Each artist has given their thoughtful insights for me to reflect upon and I have been grateful and found myself feeling better intend with myself and my project.
Zoe elaborated on her relationship with nature and how she has never seen a separation between herself and the landscape, she has a bee-keeping practice which meant that she learned to work with nature and not against it in a way that we have been taught to see nature as an objective space to overcome.
This point of view is something that I have been reflecting on more and I have been using self-portraits as a way to medicate and document my relationship with nature - in particular with the landscape of my local park in South London. Zoe also talked about elements of the landscape such as fungi/moss and trees and how they function within their own eco-systems - having an awareness of this can hopefully enable us to see nature as not just an isolated objective space that is operating from us, we must learn to acknowledge and understand that nature is not here to serve us and our aspirations.
Zoe’s curiosity and learning about the ancestral knowledge has led her to work in community settings to share and feel agency over nature - this starting with bee-keeping and doing workshops with young people in nature and has been extended in the dream(ing) filed lab which is a collective that I came across on Twitter.
After going to one of their workshops, I felt a sense of community and calmness that I had been seeking lacked in particular around the conversation about climate change and nature. The concept of healing and healing within nature is something that I talked about with Myah Jeffers.
Our conversation focused on the community as I was curious how working as a collective has enabled Zoe and the dream(ing) field lab to think and visualise the conversation about climate change and ecology, in particular with black women and femmes. As I want to create a workshop in the future with a specific focus on communities of colour, I think the methodologies and ideas of the dream(ing) field lab have been a good experience to reflect upon in any future projects I embark on. especially when I am thinking about language and also how to create a welcoming space that will enable everyone to feel engaged and open to talk about climate change, ecology, and their relationship to nature.
Wandering, Roaming and collaborating with nature
This felt better! This portrait session felt like it had a purpose and I was more connected to the surroundings, I was present in my body and I took my time.
Having a uniform - a long black coat over a long black dress with sturdy black rubber boots helped recreate a character and I felt less self-conscious and more like I was performing a version of myself but was not far removed from who I am. I was thinking of Carrie Mae Weems series Roaming (2006) whilst making these self-portraits, where I was the photographer and the subject.
The images of me looking back at the camera whilst taking my portrait was me acknowledging the duality of my role and the agency I had given myself. The context was mine to navigate and explore. I enjoyed the role, although it was cumbersome to set up the camera/tripod in different locations at one point the heavens opened and it poured down with rain. I had to hide under a tree for 10 minutes with a raincoat and umbrella as protection. Although the tree, given to me by Mother Nature was my main savior.
I emerged afterward under a blue sky that gave me permission to continue, I then found a point of reference, a long elegant tree stump that seemed dead but was very much alive and rooted in its locality. I have been obsessively photographing this tree for a year now. I decided to formally introduce myself to this tree by taking my portrait next to it, my companion and collaborator. Not an object upon me to project my subjective opinions upon bit a feature in the landscape that accompanied me every time I was in Brockwell Park. Equally, I was aware that I functioning now in multiple guises, this character was me, I mean is me but also is an extension of the multifaceted identity that Black women have.
In Sarah Jane Cervenak’s book, Wandering, the last chapter focuses on Weems series Roaming which was made in Rome/Italy in 2006. Cervenak’s notes Weems motivations behind the series:
‘Weems’s interest in architecture and power motivates the Roaming series. But, at the same time, an openness to the sublime moves alongside these secularized meditations. This openness, which arguably could be tied to Weems’s understanding of self as a “woman who yearns”, and as someone who needs a mental break, enlarges the roaming at work in the series. Indeed, given the interplay between scenes of walking and crawling, staring and stillness, Weems’s Roaming suggests powerful movement beyond the physical. A domain constituted by phantasmatic wanderings into a world just beyond this one. A kind of movement that might just provide that light and the break she is waiting for’. (1)
Like, Weems, I was trying to navigate a sense of openness and power/empowering myself to feel freedom, and belonging, and resist the narrative that means that I cannot have agency over a place that I have known my whole life.
I too, yearn to have a sense of peace and healing in nature, that’s why I felt like this portrait felt like a collaboration, for the first time, I felt calm and aware of what I was doing. Walking/roaming both have the same intentions for me, the outcome might differ but the intention comes from the same place.
Weems goes on to identify the roaming woman in the series:
‘I call her my muse- but it’s safe to say that she’s more than one thing. She’s an alter-ego. My alter-ego, yes …this woman can stand in for me and for you; she can stand in for the audience, she leads you into history. She’s a witness and a guide…. She’s shown me a great deal about the world and about myself, and I’m grateful to her. Carrying a tremendous burden, she is a black woman leading me through the trauma of history. I think it’s very important that as a black woman, she’s engaged with the world around her; she’s engaged with history, she’s engaged with looking with being. She’s a guide into circumstances seldom seen'. (2)
Footnotes:
Cervenak, Sarah Jane, Wandering - Philosophical Performance of Racial and Sexual Freedom, Conclusion - Before I was straightened Out (Duke University Press, Durham, and London, 2014), Page. 163
Cervenak, Sarah Jane, Wandering - Philosophical Performance of Racial and Sexual Freedom, Conclusion - Before I was straightened Out (Duke University Press, Durham, and London, 2014), Page. 163