What is Photopoetry? It is neglected as such that the Oxford English Dictionary records no definitions or comparable terms. Yet, since Constance Phillips’ first penning the term in 1936, it is something that deserves distinct recognition and celebration in the collaborative community of fine art photography.
As Alice was written to say; “and what is the use of a book without pictures and conversations?” (L. Carroll)
My introduction to Photopoetry came about half way through my MFA at Belfast School of Art, surrounded by the works of Heaney, Éluard, Dr. Jamila Lyiscott and constant introductions to the world of poetry through the UKLA, David Solo, Paul Hawkins, Astra Papachristodoulou and Steven Fowler. It was easy for me to see where my work would, eventually, venture.
Much of my visual work is based around walking as a performative work, entwined around the making of photographs, with no pre—planned arrangements. During this time in / on the landscape, I make word poems to collaborate with and create an environment where the photographs co-exist. Bringing sound to the silence of my pictures.
A storm came to our shores
Changing everything
The rocks under foot become familiar
3am start
Right shoulder, ray of sun
No longer able to see people up close
Sharing time and space
A rock thrown into a frozen pond at dawn
Singing
The sky flattened and motionless
Softening and slowing down time
Storm prediction
Changing everything
Ancient and overtrodden paths
Polished earth
Outdoors, indoors
Outdoor life, escape from the things we fear
A blank space on the map
First time
Last time
Footprints of my past
A guidebook for the mind
___
Between the rotting needles
Of last winter
Wild herbs
A rotting Dove, wings folded
Mistaken for a dry river stone,
Polished, over time.
After generations of winters
this frozen hill
I think it could not
keep up with the others
It's wings unable to carry on.
Now from hollow sockets
They stare out on this cruel abundance.
___
Our cost of living is the price one pays
For all those things one needs each day.
When calculated with the allure of greed,
In addition with time,
Results in a figure that painfully climbs.
Jingoism
Cronyism
Colonialism
Control.
All invariably drives the soul,
Of men who, given the position of power,
Without catechism, pump or probe,
Lied to please the board.