The (untitled) Photograms

As my year of vigorous study with master printer Chuck Kelton and gallerist Alison Bradley winds down, my work begins to come into sharp focus. It's been an incredible time of discovery and growth and bloody hard work, and I'm excited to give you a small glimpse of some of the newest work. 

These pieces are one of a kind life-size photograms made with my body and layered with text, words reflecting upon the experience of the human body. They work in conjunction and expand upon the ideas within my previous portfolios "This Is You, This Is Me"(2012) and "I Am Body"(2010) but I feel they are more direct due to there being no camera involved. They speak more to physical presence and the impressions and marks we leave as we make our way forward.

This body of work is not finished,  but I have reached a place at which to pause before moving on to the next chapter. In some ways I feel the story is only beginning, but it is exhilarating to find myself venturing down my path less travelled. Nevertheless, I still have a few loose ends to tie up on those already made. They will be toned in gold and each is to be given a title. This will all be done just in time for our final class presentation at the end of the month.

  All images © Claire Gilliam

New Work

Over the autumn months, I embarked on a new body of photographs. I suppose really it is a continuation of the ideas and concepts I've had about the human body and in particular my own disabled body, a deeper exploration of the images I made for the portfolio "This Is You, This Is Me".

I have introduced two new elements to my process: inspired by small photograms I made in college sixteen years ago I have begun to make life sized body photograms which allow me to examine the physical imprint that is left within a space, as well as thoughts of trace, presence and absence. Within these images I am playing with layering and text. These are works very much in progress, forever evolving and in the next few weeks I will post a few for you to see. Here though, is an Instagramed sneak peak to whet your appetite!

I have also taken on a collaborative partner, my husband, who under my direction aims my camera at me. His eye adds a new dimension to the work, extending the experience of being gazed upon and examined through somebody else's eyes and bringing into play the notions of sensuality, physicality and sexuality.

This work is as yet untitled but I thought I'd share with you a few of the new images. All prints are printed on semi-matt warm tone paper in the darkroom.

                                                                                   All images © Claire Gilliam

"This Is You, This Is Me" - An Ongoing Portfolio

There is no escaping the body. Each of us occupies this mass of tissue, muscle, bone and skin we call our body and we all own complex feelings about it, some positive, some negative. We have good days and bad days, often dependent on the perceptions of others.

This new work explores my relationship to my own ‘disabled’ body, both personally and in connection to society’s view of what is normal or perfect. It continues where my portfolio “I Am My Body” left off, delving into the discomforts and insecurities that come with pain, the pleasures and delights of what could be or what in fact is just the reality of my body. Each photograph is a small tale or contemplation that exists and evolves within my body at any time. As a whole, the project reflects longings, desires, hurts and limitations as well as mapping the physical history of my body.

The photographs also contain memories. The act of photographing myself repeatedly brought forth remembrances of surgeries and falls, of other people’s stares and their reactions to me. Many of the photographs utter the unkind words or enquiries that are often asked without consent, catching me off guard, and sometimes shocking me into remembering that I was supposedly different from everybody.

But actually this is a falsehood. The truth is there is no such thing as the perfect body as society will have you believe. The body pictured here might just as well be yours with the same longings, desires, insecurities and abnormalities as mine. It’s just pictured a little bit differently. 

All images are printed in the darkroom on 16"x 20" Ilford semi-matt warm-tone paper and toned in gold. 

2012

Emergence

Pin-up

This Might Be Your Body

Body Is Experiencing

Look At Me

Spastic

This Body Is Just Strange

Disregard

Thoughts of Venus

Flawed

Balancing Act

Guarded

In A Perfect World, There Is The Perfect Body

Reflection

All images © Claire Gilliam

The Slow Whisper of Trees- A portfolio

Trees are history, they hold our memories, they have seen things. They are life, love, loss. They are figures upon our landscape essential and necessary, but often taken for granted, or never really seen. Trees are beautiful but can have a menace about them too, stick thin and towering sometimes, bent and knarled at others. Solitary sentients of our world or pulsating swathes of forest. They have stood as guardians over us for centuries, as silent witnesses. They bear the marks of living upon their bodies, much as we do.

The Slow Whisper Of Trees is in part a visual poem of all these ideas, but it is also an exploration of my own fears, and wonderment as I make my way in this world. A small musing on the cyclical nature of things; of memory, loss, impermanance, balance. A reminder of the interconnectness of all things.

All images © Claire Gilliam

It started with a whisper.

That sound upon the air

Frozen, held, suspended

Then propelled forward

Into time, towards End.

Imprinted upon the land

Stories are told then

Of this cyclical life

And our place in it.

Our birth, our death.

These are our whispers

Echoed upwards, and on

Circles of thought and 

Connected history 

Cradled by long limbs.

Amongst the deep crevices of

Bark and branch

Inky memories etch their way

To coil our loss and love

tightly bound, taken root.

For anyone who cares to look,

Delve deep and long

Or to quietly sit and listen,

The slow whisper grows loud

To tell beyond our decay.

A New Beginning And A Project Finished.

Cor, blimey (as we Brits like to say), it's been a lot longer than I thought since I last posted something, and I am somewhat embarrassed that I have let months go by without comment. So first things first, I am very glad indeed that spring has finally put in an appearance. It feels late this year and here in Warwick, the trees are only now showing signs of bursting into life. New life, daffodiles, hyacinths, green grass, puppy dogs and calves. I love this time of year. I know it's a cliche but it does herald the winding down of the old and the beginning of new things, new projects, and creative endeavours.

And with that in mind, this month finds me having completed my photographic project that has been on the go for the past six months. I have titled the project 'I Am My Body'. There is the final edit still to come where I will whittle 25 images down to about 15 but all the images have been made. The prints are printed on 16 x20 Ilford Warmtone semi-matt paper, and toned in gold. I will be presenting the final portfolio on May 2nd to the rest of my class, and a few people in the field, after which I will begin the hard work of trying to get the work seen in the hope of getting some sort of exhibition. I am very proud of this work. It encapsulates everything I have been attempting to explore about the body and my disability over the years. I will leave you with a small sampling of the work and my statement as I go off to ponder new and wonderful explorations in photography

I AM MY BODY

This project has evolved from living in a disabled body all my life, leading me to explore the relationship between my own awareness of being, and the way others may perceive me as a disabled woman.

I am particularly intrigued by the paradoxes these images reveal: the sense of awkwardness my body has in motion coupled with a gracefulness that is both unexpected and beautiful. By placing myself in front of the camera, I am finally giving the viewer permission to stare at my body, in the hope that it forces a shift in attitude, and questions society's perceptions about difference and the 'ideal body'.

All images © Claire Gilliam

Family Matters

A Memory of Susan Marshall, My Mother, With Her Family, C. 1970 (2008)

Rosalind Marshall, My Grandmother (2007)

Alan Marshall, My Grandfather (2007)

A Memory of the First Holiday Afterwards, C. 1978 (2008)

All images © Claire Gilliam

This past week has been spent preparing applications for Woodstock Center for Photography's annual 'Photographer's Fellowship  Fund Award', and juried competition 'Photography Now'. They are now out of my hands and awaiting the jurers at CPW. This is the first time I have entered work for any kind of award, and I found the process a bit nerve racking, and time consuming.....but it was worth all the effort, because even if I do not win, I have learnt many things, and realise that it is not so difficult after all just to go for it and see what happens!

The body of work I submitted for both awards was taken from "Family Matters', a project that I began working on last fall, and completed (stage 1) in March. Through the interweaving of text taken from the written recollections of my family, portraits of family members, and the reworking of old snapshots I put together a document that tells of one particular moment in my history. Its interesting to me because whilst it is an intensely personal body of work, that was painful for everyone involved, the collection as a whole begins to reveal the idea of truth and memory, and how this can shape one's life. Its a piece that I think, like my 'self portraits' I shall continue to work on......it is by no means finished! The images above a small sampling of the project.....and a poem which I wrote for the project

My memories of You

are sharp, acute.

I feel every moment lived.

Emotions Cut through my skin

Straight to my Heart.

My History is embedded with yours

Entwined and sculpted.

The 'I am' of me, always

Connected to you. By Chance

Circumstances.

One instant bringing change

Unforeseen but destined.

A Grey day sometime black night

Then Blue Sky heralding hope.

Your Gift to me.

No Earthquake could dismantle

My constancy and faith

In You. There, solid, and so strong, 

My kin stand facing outwards

Embracing Me.