reach into the soil

These bodies of work were exhibited within once more; with fluidity, a group photographic exhibition held at Twentysix Gallery. 2022.

reach into the soil is an exploration of a landscape using documentary photography, interlaced with performative self-portraits. Informed by the method of sustainable analog photography, and the physical impact of making photography, reach into the soil challenges the normalisation of wasteful and harmful methods of producing photography in representation of a landscape. 

In using sustainable or less harmful methods of photography, the traditional idea of good image quality is secondary. Taking a slightly anarchical approach and prioritising the embodiment of the landscape through a medium that is not harming it, over what a Western system of belief considers a successful image. 

An example of this, is within the artist book reach into the soil: settler colonial trauma and reciprocity with the land, in the photograph of a headstone. The headstone belongs to that of my ancestors, although the work is not about them, it is inspired by them, their lives and their actions. Investigating my ancestral connection to the site has led to unpacking the intergenerational trauma within our country, and the white guilt that surfaces when acknowledging the hard truths of our settler colonial country, and acting towards amending that (Huygens, 2011). 

The detail of the text carved into the surface of the gravestone disintegrates with the printing method I used, this is important as it reduces the gravestone to a symbol, rather than the representation of a person. It signifies the distance between the viewer and the people of our past, who had a whole life that is unfamiliar to us. This symbol acts as the reminder, for the viewer to consider their past, when moving forward, particularly in the direction of sustainability and decolonisation.

When looking at the photographs printed in the artist book, a disintegration of tonal contrast is immediately evident. The photographs are tonally flat, despite often being separated by the duo-tone of brown and blue. This severe softness is inherent and almost unavoidable with the processes used, so is a part of the compromise of using sustainable photographic methods. Although it creates an alignment with the landscape, it is not my place to attempt to represent the landscape, that is an inherently colonial endeavour (Neimanis, 2015). Instead the work embodies what I have experienced of the landscape - a gentle, harmonious chaos. 

In an attempt to reduce the waste in my process by removing the digital negative, and using the 120 film negative to print directly, the scale of the prints now framed upon the wall are 6cm square. By removing any third party materials, and instead directly using the original and unique negative, and the darkroom paper it is printed upon, forms such a clear connection between the print and the landscape. These photographs are darkroom printed by hand, and developed using caffenol, an alternative, home-made developer concocted using household ingredients that are readily made sustainable. 

In working with such an intensely intimate scale, I’m asking a lot from the viewer, to move their body inward to physically engage with the prints. This effort intensifies the viewer's experience and connection to the land that is photographed. The five prints selected come together to give an overview of the collection of photographs inside the book.

Thomas, Amanda. “Pākehā and doing the work of Decolonisation”. Imagining Decolonisation, Bridget Williams Books Ltd, 2020, pages 107-132.

The sculptural elements of the concertina book aid it in transcending the definitions of what a photobook is, to become more of an object, an artist book. Taking the concertina out of its box, and laying it out flat, it is slightly more than 6.5m in length, designed to relate to the visual of a timeline. Having been photographed throughout all four seasons this year, there are fluctuations of seasonal change and the effects of time upon the landscape seen within the photographs. The concertina style book accentuates the transient nature of the landscape, particularly seen in the sequencing decisions. By sequencing images with different light qualities from seasonal differences, and water or land qualities from seasonal downpour, these slight shifts in the seasonal temporality becomes more evident. 

womb, is an installation of plants collected from the site, displayed in a circle almost a metre square. I took plants most common in the area, mainly being intrusive weeds; dock, nightshade and gorse, to represent the colonial impact upon the landscape. During the week in the gallery, I vow to maintain the plants as to return them to the location afterwards, as to look after what I’ve borrowed, to continue growing or . Bringing yet another element of the landscape into the white box gallery space, is a way of bringing the landscape to the viewer. Not trying to represent it, but curating the space in which it can represent itself. 

Alongside the depiction of the landscape, I also used my ancestral connection to the landscape, and the subsequent investigation into settler colonial trauma to inspire self portraiture. Upon the performance of intuitively conducting my body for the camera, there has been space left open to consider the foundational thoughts that reach into the soil is built upon. Including generational histories, memory, trauma and how all these converging thoughts come to inform our relationship with nature. The land acts as my collaborator in this, often being the only thing that connects me to my ancestors. This has also been a therapeutic way to process the turmoil these realisations create. 

It is impossible to discuss land in Aotearoa without considering its societal and political position as well. The land I photographed, in the Ōhariu-Mākara Valley, coastal yet rural farmland just outside of Pōneke, is Ngāti Toa and Te Atiawa land. Stolen from then upon the invasion of English settlers, then centuries later, a portion returned to the Wellington City Council, for everyone to care for. 

I am a descendant of English settlers that removed pre-colonial native bush to implement Western farming upon the hillside in Mākara. In Aotearoa we are working within a systemically settler colonised country, so it is important as an individual to acknowledge where one fits in the development of the decolonisation of our country. This is essential in assuring that as a Pāhekā person I am not conflicting the voices or actions of indigenous people, and instead am striving to support their movements, this is a part of being Tangata Tiriti (Thomas, 2020). 

My photographs investigate and discuss numerous ideologies, such as Ecofeminism, and addresses my personal ancestral connection. Ecofeminism is an ideology that aligns the planet and the feminine, drawing on their similarities in our colonial, capitalist society, particularly seen in the treatment of both feminine/non-male people and the planet, both unappreciated and mistreated by society as a majority. 

Ecofeminist ideologies are the foundation for reach into the soil, contextualised in a local Aotearoa perspective, to navigate through ideas of settler colonisation, decolonisation and reciprocity between humans and non-humans. 

Huygens, Ingrid. “Developing a Decolonisation Practice for Settler Colonisers: A Case Study from Aotearoa New Zealand”, Settler Colonial Studies 2, 2011, 53-81, https://doi.org/10.1080/2201473X.2011.10648812 

Neimanis, Astrida.“No Representation without Colonisation? (Or, Nature Represents Itself).” forthcoming in SOMATECHNICS Vol 5. 2 Missing Links and (Non)Human Queerings, 2015. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/282965610_No_Representation_without_Colonisation_Or_Nature_Represents_Itself