Sharon Boothroyd is a photographic artist based in London. Having exhibited internationally and received prestigious awards in Europe, Canada and America, Boothroyd continues her photographic practice while also serving as founding editor of Photoparley, an online venture engaging with photography in interview form, and working as a photography tutor at Open College of the Arts. Art Jericho, Oxford, recently showed works from Boothroyd’s recent series, ‘If you get married again will you still love me?’ Photomonitor editor Christiane Monarchi interviewed Boothroyd to learn more about this series, as well as the background to more of her compelling interpersonal works.
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Christiane Monarchi: To begin, I would like to discuss the creation of your series ‘If you get married again will you still love me?’ recently on show in Oxford. In the accompanying text you mention that the tableaux are based on words spoken to separated fathers by their children, and we are presented with intricate scenes full of emotion visibly etched on faces and played out through gesture and stance. Who are your subjects, and how much narrative is the viewer to read into these scenes?
Sharon Boothroyd: My physical subjects are actors, friends of friends mainly. But my real subjects are the children who are affected by living in a home where their fathers are not constantly present. Firstly let me explain that I spent a lot of time with separated fathers and gathered research from them. I even spent some afternoons photographing them with their children on their legally phrased ‘contact time’. What I found during those times was that I wasn’t getting the truth of the moments that mattered; the hidden moments that are intimate and private. So I tried a new approach – to find out the experiences from the people who knew firsthand and then recreate them, like in a film.
I hope the viewer can bring their personal histories and experiences to the reading of these scenes as well as empathising with the character they are faced with. This is a universal subject yet the individuals have their own stories. I wanted the work to reach a universal audience with their own personal stories, in that sense it’s very human. So yes, narrative is essential to empathising and understanding the emotions behind the images.
CM: In constructing these images, you have chosen some ostensibly ‘public’ places – a men’s clothing store, a café – and some more private, domestic backdrops – entry hallway, stairs – for the compositions. How have you decided on these places, and what is important visually about the settings for the development of narrative within your image?
SB: I had a range of phrases that were a mixture of being in public and others that spoke more of abandonment. I wanted to hint at each of these memories but not give each one a specific reference, I wanted the narrative to be more ambiguous than that. It is not a documentary project and I wanted the viewer to have more input in the ending and construction of each story, so I chose both the private and public as places to set the scenes. Also I imagine it’s more realistic, that you can’t control where these moments happen.
An example of how I chose one location was the phrase I used for the title “If you get married again, will you still love me?” The boy said it to his dad after he met his new girlfriend. I was driving past a vintage clothes shop that had suits hanging outside on an old clothes rail and I imagined the boy getting ready to be at this wedding, a guest of honour, in smart clothing with all the excitement that comes with weddings; being measured for a suit etc and behind all that he is worried that this ‘big day’ will mean that he loses his Dad. I was really heartbroken for that little boy, even though I made him up.
In terms of making the settings develop the narrative they have to be consistent. I had to have the chips and ketchup in the greasy spoon café for it to be authentic. It’s the mise-en-scène that goes into the make up of a scene that makes it convincing. The clothing, the facial expressions, the ambiance either create or break the moment. In constructed scenes like these, especially dealing with something as poignant, the artifice has to be hidden for it to be most effective or it becomes a parody.
CM: You have mentioned questioning the veracity and artifice of the photograph in this series ‘If you get married… ‘ Could you elaborate on this?
SB: Simply using actors and lighting sets and constructing narratives raises questions about the ‘truth’ aspect that people often associate with photography. These moments didn’t actually happen, we made them up and I directed people to look a certain way by asking them to think of certain things, perhaps unrelated. But I don’t think that makes the work any less powerful or true in terms of what it is speaking about. In fact the way I chose to approach the topic was in order to make it more true to life than I was able to on my afternoons with the child and father, which some people may consider more ‘true to life’. I find the boundary between what really happened and what didn’t interesting territory because it causes people to consider what they think is real. Does it really matter if we bombarded a tiny men’s suit store in Oxford one day to set up a photograph if we are creating a means to discuss something deeper than we would normally get to see? Or the counter argument; am I creating a bias by constructing these emotive moments and forgetting about the mundane and every day existence of these families?
CM: I am interested in carrying this idea of artifice to think about another of your series, ‘The Glass Between Us’ featuring voyeuristic views inside homes around nocturnal Oxford. Both series seem to contain layers of truth and fiction, and grey areas open to interpretation in these intimate displays. What appealed to you in choosing the locations and their inherent subjects for the works in ‘The Glass Between Us’?
SB: “…will you still love me?” began with an idea whereas ‘The Glass Between Us’ began with the image. Obviously I am subconsciously bound to making work around these lines of distinction between fact and fiction. I simply love looking at how other people live and that intrigue was exacerbated by living in Oxford where I felt very different from a vast percentage of the population. It was a means of getting behind the façade and becoming involved with these strangers’ lives, even in a miniscule way. This work is true in the sense that these are real people in their real homes (the opposite of “will you still love me”), these scenes are actually happening all over the world and I find that fascinating. The artifice comes in because I made the subjects aware of themselves and it was up to them to correct / resume what they were doing at the time. The self-consciousness is the artifice. The images appear as though they are un-staged but in fact they are. How I chose the subjects and the locations was simply visual. The ideas came as I reflected on what was a very instinctive project.
CM: What kind of relationship do you have with the subjects, did everyone approached agree to participate?
SB: Not everyone! It’s a posh part of town so people refused politely but one or two were rude (for English standards). Most people found it an interesting idea and some admitted to a bit of peeping themselves! I have kept in touch with a few and some have asked me to come and do their back window or get their daughter! It’s interesting how different people respond. The problem is when a housekeeper or nanny answers the door then goes to ask the house owner on my behalf. If this happens I might as well walk away. Who is going to say yes to “someone is looking in your window and wants to take your picture is that ok”? I have to pitch it well, I’m very careful about that and try to be as professional as possible.
CM: Your ongoing series ‘Edelweiss’ presents fresh compositions and portraits including your own children, who seem suspended in a dreamlike state of contemplation, without the usual abundant imagery of childhood – toys, food, chaos. What does the title of the series mean to you?
SB: I chose ‘Edelweis’s because of personal reasons – I used to sing it to my daughter to get her to sleep (she is very small and white!). I also grew up with ‘The Sound of Music’ and the way they use that song in the face of such danger has always haunted me. That conflict between innocence and danger / evil is so jarring. As it suited the themes I wanted to raise in the series I felt it was apt, but I don’t know if many others will automatically make that connection.
CM: How shall we read these images of children engaged in calm vistas on the adult world?
SB: I know some people have found some of the images disturbing. I think it could be due to a few factors, like their own experiences, perhaps they encountered abuse and the images triggered a memory for them. Whereas some people don’t even see the darkness and think it’s work about recovering childhood innocence. People will read them in different ways. I don’t want to impose the right or wrong way to interpret them but I hope it evokes memory, ideals, fears, repulsion and maternal protectiveness. Moreover than any right answer, I hope the work can be engaged with on a visceral level, allowing our reaction to lead us to learn more about ourselves and our hopes and fears.
CM: How does it feel making work involving your children? I would also be interested to know if you have had a conscious reaction or attraction to the work of other artists photographing their children?
SB: I love using my children as subject matter. Apart from the fact that they are readily available I have built up a wonderful way of working with my 3 year old. She knows making the photograph is a moment we share, and she responds to it in a way that shows she values it as our language. She often does something strange and says “Mummy take a picture”, like curling up naked on the stairs for example. I have to respect her too of course and sometimes she will ask me to put the camera away, so I won’t push it.
I am so inspired by mothers who continue to make art. I adore the work of Elinor Carucci, Sally Mann and Edith Maybin because in their own ways, they have pushed the boundaries of photographs of children whilst remaining respectful and intrigued with childhood. I feel they are doing something true to their experience and that in itself is inspiring. I also like Julia Fullerton-Baton, Hellen van Meene, Hannah Starkey and Julia Blackmon. I think they are all mothers but their work may not directly concern their own children.
CM: On the spectrum of portraiture ranging from observed to staged, where would these images in ‘Edelweiss’ fall?
SB: Somewhere in between I think. Sometimes Anais is just doing something and I think that would make a great picture, so it is observed; straight documentary.
Sometimes I find locations that I think might work and we try some different positions. With this work, somehow, it is usually the found ones that are the best. If I can get her to hold it while I run for the camera then it will probably be better than if we try to recreate it. Perhaps it’s the fact that she is too young to recreate it or maybe part of it is that as her mother I get the privilege of sharing her most internal moments, unlike the work with the fathers the moments are there for the taking.
For me the distinction between staged and observed is less important than the context the work is positioned within. The context of ‘Edelweiss’ makes it different from documentary because it is positioned within artistic language and not dependent on the fact of these being documents of what actually happened. The fact is that a lot of readings can be applied to these images and not one is necessarily true.
