BETTER BUSY THAN BORED
Beth Prodger Emily Hutchinson
BETTER BUSY THAN BORED Beth Prodger Emily Hutchinson
T
his project was born out of dissent. In the beginning, much of what I associated with this work was negative – frustration at not being able to continue a previous project, resentment at the idea of doing something against my ‘will’ or at least not of my choosing, and an overall discontent with the whole situation. I was full of anxieties, not only for myself and my work, but my family, other friends and relatives (especially those in China), the future…I felt my creativity had been restricted along with the rest of the world. Quarantine is a funny thing. A strange, apocalyptic aura. As if the air had suddenly changed and even the trees knew there was something menacing on its global rampage, rearing its ugly head on the news. Imagine a prison in a world without laws. Empty. Empty streets, empty shelves, empty cupboards. Empty ideas. But this project needed to come to fruition in one way or another, and so I took photos, attempting to document the way in which people in my immediate geographical radius reacted to and tried to overcome this new, strange state of affairs we all found ourselves in. I took to the streets with my camera, to the local parks, and supermarkets, photographing people from afar – in part due to my natural adversity to street photography, but also due to government advice of social distancing. I thought photographing strangers in a time when such conflicts occurred as “coming together” whilst having to stay very much apart seemed apparent as the right way to go about producing work under such restrictions. And yet from this, the project evolved, and my focus shifted. I found myself again
documenting those who are closest to me, both in physical proximity and in like-mindedness. The work was no longer about “outside”, but about our own filter bubble. Because that is what it was. We were in the fortunate position of being isolated together. Apart from the 5 o’clock news, the 8pm appreciation for our front-line workers and the occasional trip to the supermarket, we could almost forget the state the world was in. Living in this bubble, we celebrated two birthdays, took up painting, and tried to continue our lives as normal. This did not come without tension, without stress, without disputes. But our bubble was filled with support, laughter and creativity. It had its still moments. The quiet moments. The moments where the unspoken, toxic resentment was almost so silent, so tense that our bubble may burst at the touch of a feather. It often felt too tight, and the tell-tale restlessness of claustrophobia threatened to taint our content for each other and our home. And it makes me wonder why these days are the ones that either produce the best photos, or the ones where I completely question why I didn’t just stick to books. There is no in between. This body of work combines my own perspective and experience of a crisis that shocked the world, as well as Beth’s – two experiences that were largely the same on paper, but highly different for each of us. And the series, we hope, will provide an insight into an alternate perspective again, while adding to a collective photographic archive much larger than that of our own work...but a global
archive, documented by photographers and non-photographers alike. When we – the world – look back on this time, it is photographs, letters, art, that we will have as evidence: a testament to the suffering, loss, hope, collaboration and determination of society world-wide. This book is a testament to our ability to push through and produce something we are proud of, despite its negative grounding. But most of all, it is a memoir of our time spent during this once-in-a-generation, ultimately historic event.
-Emily Hutchinson
O
n the 23rd March 2020, the UK was put into lockdown in an unprecedented attempt to help stop the spread of Coronavirus. Like many other people worldwide, I had to decide where I was going to live during this time of uncertainty. Many people had to make a difficult decision: whether to live with family, friends or partners. Whatever the decision, it was always going to be difficult; not knowing when we were going to see loved ones again. My university housemates and I all made the decision to stay in our house in Gloucestershire. Choosing to all stay together, it only felt right to document this extraordinary time. Whilst in each other’s company, I found very early on I was observing time and confinement more than usual. Some days felt as if they were never going to end, especially when we were missing family
and friends. However, more often than not we found our days were filled with laughter and quality time together. Therefore, it felt important that I engaged with not only the concept of time feeling like it had stood still, but also how I was interacting with my friends. During the time spent as a group, we have grown even closer to one another and have also discovered much more about ourselves. Over the three-month period, we all found ways of dealing with the climate we found ourselves in. Most days we would all come together in the afternoon and spend hours in the conservatory and kitchen: painting, cooking, colouring-in or writing. The concept of “a day out” massively changed for me during lockdown. Leaving the house to go food shopping, our daily walks or even spending the whole day outside in the garden (with just gravel to lay on) instead of staying indoors were all considered more significant to me than they would have three months ago. Having more time to be creative made me want to share my newfound projects with others. Sending and receiving letters and cards from friends and immediate family sourced a great deal of happiness through this time. Like many other people, video calling was imperative but receiving cards made me strangely reminisce more of past times.
Living and spending each day in the same place has made me appreciate smaller details that I once overlooked. It helped me to better understand my relationship with my surroundings. Personally, I looked to flowers and nature as something very comforting during this period. Flowers and bouquets reminded me a great deal of my family home in Bedfordshire, where my mum would have beautiful blooms in every room in the house. Buying bouquets or collecting flowers from our walks, and arranging them in jam jars, was calming and brought smiles to everyone’s faces. The more time we spent in each other’s company, the easier it was to say when we weren’t OK. Some days were just not ‘our days’. Some days were no makeup days. Some days were spent in bed. Some days were spent sat in front of the TV watching rubbish. This was our way of coping, and that’s fine too. I feel very privileged to have spent lockdown together and will look back at this period as a point in our lives where we had time to slow down and reflect.
-Beth Prodger
Forty-six
Emily and Chloe in the Back Garden
A Grey Morning
Forget Me Not
Self-portrait
Body Hair
Cow Parsley
Daily Exercise
Sunday Morning
Beth
A Day in the Garden
Drips
Bedsheet Drying
Balloons
Chloe’s Birthday
Tassels
Thinking Pink
Tulips
Tulips
Thank You
Back Garden View
Red
Emily’s Space
Upstairs Bathroom
889 Miles Away
What Should I Paint?
Day 19 of Lockdown
Towel
Roots
Voile Drapes Tied with String
My Bed
Self-portrait
My Bed
Look up at Me
Dying for a Change
Emily
Miscellaneous I don’t know what I’ve been doing but I’ve taken up running and learnt to hate noise; lying in bed, reading poems about how life was before the nothingness of now is a choice I’ve made: I could be drawing, or working on me, instead, I’m watching every Vicar of Dibley and wondering what would happen if I stopped writing or if I decided to stay awake all night until the days and the nights become an endless date like all the rubbish I’ve been reading online; 2 0 2 0 has been a copy and paste
- Emily L Chilton
Copy and Paste
Breakfast Thoughts
Checked Shirt Sundays
Fenicottero
Construct
Smile Together
Floof
Easter Monday: Chloe Naps on Sofa
Silver Lining
A World without People is a Library without Books
Inside Out
Back Lit, Self-portrait
Last Light