From sex, to wrestling, summer trips and hotel rooms, the new exhibition Clutching at Ornaments brings together work by Celia Croft, Jesse Glazzard and Finnegan Travers, and explores photographs as physical momentos of passing time
Celia Croft, Jesse Glazzard and Finnegan Travers first met two years ago in the darkroom. As they developed their prints under the infrared light, the photographers spoke about their shared preference for physically displaying their work over putting it out into the digital ether. “I think darkrooms can make you think about other images that surround you,” Travers tells Dazed. “We’re constantly stimulated by people’s work and it gets to a point where you wonder, ‘What would these look like together, these images from different worlds?’” These darkroom dialogues sparked a curiosity for how their imagery might come together in a group show. Now, this dream has been realised in their new group show, Clutching at Ornaments, a tender collection of sentimental fragments, opening in east London’s Gallery 46.
While each artist’s focus varies, what they share is a desire to diary, marking each photo a raw document in time, a memory and moment committed to film. “The significance lies not in the broader narrative, but in the gaps in between; the intimacies of a room; strangers and relationships,” says Travers.
Croft’s work traces the transience of the in-between moments – wrestlers fighting, friends in hotel rooms, relics found on a road trip last summer. “I like stuff that feels a bit faded and left behind,” says Croft. “Places with weird energies, not quite destinations but more like stops on the way. I think that’s what I want my work to feel like.”
Fascinated by physical touch, Croft recognises its many forms – from love to performance and to sports, like wrestling. “It’s something I discovered later in life,” Croft tells us. “I was just curious about it, so I went to some wrestling matches with my camera. I would turn up early and watch them practice the routine and figure out how they were going to fight and I found it so interesting… the intention to make it look like they were really hurting each other, whilst trying not to.” Returning to the footage, Croft realised it was the calmer, sensitive moments of rest and recovery in between the big moves that she preferred. “Behind the bravado and performance of it all, there’s something quite soft about it.”
Photography shows me over and over again that everything is in a constant state of change – Jesse Glazzard
Glazzard reflects on moments of love, sex and rest with friends, lovers and his outer community. “Photography shows me over and over again that everything is in a constant state of change. So I suppose I’m always looking back and grateful I can revisit that feeling while also simultaneously letting go of a moment,” he continues. “It allows me to appreciate things like relationships.” Glazzard hopes to minimise the distance between the camera, the subject and the viewer, nurturing a closeness between the person photographed and the person viewing it. He elaborates, “If you feel a closeness to the person in the image, identity drops from the image and it becomes about human connection.”
Village bell ringers, crows fighting on a beach in Ireland, a sink in an old apartment, Travers’ photographs are drawn from ongoing projects that span years. “There is a photograph of my twin brother on the day he was released from the hospital, he’s fragile. The image is hard for me because I almost lost him. Next to this photo is one of my own hands, which is an important pairing because it speaks of the care I handed over to him during that time,” Travers says. “There’s a photo of Nial, a kid who used to smoke on the steps outside of the flat I lived in, I’d see him most days.”
Clutching at Ornaments draws its title directly from one of Glazzard’s photos, which shows a person quite literally clutching an ornament. Croft tells us, “The sentiment really resonated with me, because photography for me is kind of a way of collecting objects or ornaments, just in photo form, rather than physically – a way of holding onto something that isn’t tangible.”
Meanwhile, Travers manufactures the tangibility through the manual labour of analogue photography, finding joy in making something as physical as a print from a fleeting moment caught on film. “I probably print four times a week, at least,” he laughs. “I fucking adore it. I like that we get to leave something behind, the physicality of images, especially those made in the dark with our hands. Because not only have those moments been real for me in experience, but I’ve physically brought them back into my life as something I can hold in my hands.”
“We wanted to show our work in a space that felt quite personal,” says Croft, “Initially, we floated the idea of showing in a house or somewhere that at least had rooms like a house.” So, Gallery 46, a converted Georgian townhouse with rooms and wooden floors, was the perfect space.
“I believe in letting the independent image sing but I think images will always try to speak to each other, whether we’ve intended them to or not,” Travers finishes. “Each image exists on its own but ultimately they come from a bigger storyline. You start to notice the same themes and approaches come up too, and when next to one another they have a certain voice.”
Clutching at Ornaments opens on July 4 at Gallery 46 in east London.