The Story behind the Portrait

‘The Cub’ (2016) shows my daughter Finlay, and as an image, it is something of an anomaly for me. I say that because not many of my photographs have the subject front and centre as this one does. Within my photography, I’m more interested in the spaces around those I photograph, the suggestion of what’s out of frame or the imprints that they have left on their environment. This photograph is different in that it’s all about Finn. I don’t really consider my work portraiture in a traditional sense but more so a portrait of lives, of family, and of domesticity which the fuller series (‘Elephants for Dinner’ – 2010 onwards) offers a wider reflection on.

Children’s internal worlds fascinate me, especially in the years before they can communicate effectively. Here Finn appears lost in a waking dream, unaware of the slipped headband, and unburdened with the self-consciousness that soon takes over most of us. She is still the same, 4 years later, and very different from her twin.

Before the birth of my eldest daughter 12 years ago, most of my photography – although still diaristic – was either out on the streets or of my ‘family’ of friends, and I worried that in raising small children I’d fall victim to the ‘pram in the hall’, Cyril Connolly’s notion that children inhibit a creative life. So, the natural solution was to combine my photography and my family, and if anything, that has given me a focus that was lacking before.

‘The Cub’, like the majority of my work, was a spontaneous shot. I’m interested in the idea of the ‘snapshot’ and hate it when the term is used in a negative way. Snapshots are what got me interested in photography – the accidents and the ones that didn’t make the albums on our parents’ shelves, the beauty in the truths captured by those who raised us.

‘Snapshot’ also sums up how I work; always ready, my camera a small, fast and simple tool, snatching moments. The frames either side of the photo above are totally different, and whereas usually I can see what I’m hoping to capture, with this one I had no idea until I saw it later amongst the other, rejected shots. I strive to catch these fleeting moments that only exist for a split second before the scene has changed completely. The moments that exist outside of the normal posed shots. And it’s mostly this that drives me – creating a life’s work that my children, partner and I will look back on with a smile, remembering what life was really like, which is in turns messy, surreal, funny, sad, and everything in-between.