Inside the window
from She Becomes An Inaccessible Ghost, a series of photographs taken in Portland, Dorset in 2019 in response to Thomas Hardy's The Well Beloved.
The photographs capture a moment in time where my mum was living between two houses, my childhood home, and this house in Portland. She'd just finished the renovation, and the place was still sparsely furnished and airy. The house was previously owned by an eccentric old man who hosted a nightclub there called "Smirkles": which was all mirror tiles and chintz. The Smirkles garden had been ornamented with cheap concrete sculptures and were hand-painted by a local artist. They sat within nests of overgrown bracken and ragwort. Something about them resonated with me when reading The Well Beloved.
Inside the window captures the same sunset through one of the last remaining vestiges of the Smirkles legacy: old net curtains.
This edition on archival pearl paper; roughly A3.
from She Becomes An Inaccessible Ghost, a series of photographs taken in Portland, Dorset in 2019 in response to Thomas Hardy's The Well Beloved.
The photographs capture a moment in time where my mum was living between two houses, my childhood home, and this house in Portland. She'd just finished the renovation, and the place was still sparsely furnished and airy. The house was previously owned by an eccentric old man who hosted a nightclub there called "Smirkles": which was all mirror tiles and chintz. The Smirkles garden had been ornamented with cheap concrete sculptures and were hand-painted by a local artist. They sat within nests of overgrown bracken and ragwort. Something about them resonated with me when reading The Well Beloved.
Inside the window captures the same sunset through one of the last remaining vestiges of the Smirkles legacy: old net curtains.
This edition on archival pearl paper; roughly A3.
from She Becomes An Inaccessible Ghost, a series of photographs taken in Portland, Dorset in 2019 in response to Thomas Hardy's The Well Beloved.
The photographs capture a moment in time where my mum was living between two houses, my childhood home, and this house in Portland. She'd just finished the renovation, and the place was still sparsely furnished and airy. The house was previously owned by an eccentric old man who hosted a nightclub there called "Smirkles": which was all mirror tiles and chintz. The Smirkles garden had been ornamented with cheap concrete sculptures and were hand-painted by a local artist. They sat within nests of overgrown bracken and ragwort. Something about them resonated with me when reading The Well Beloved.
Inside the window captures the same sunset through one of the last remaining vestiges of the Smirkles legacy: old net curtains.
This edition on archival pearl paper; roughly A3.