Maura Jamieson Photography

Too old to ask permission and too young to be ignored. Women have been a critical part of the history of photography and continue to offer a new narrative and insight into the world and the way it can be seen. Cultural perceptions of older women and the devaluation of young women are ubiquitous, often denigrated and vilified. In its depiction of women The Understory II confronts this by celebrating women both young and old, recognising how gender and nature intersect, and the powerful connecting women have with the natural world.

The need to ensure women's participation in environmental decision-making is being increasingly recognised. Recently Swiss women, known as KlimaSeniorinnen argued their age and gender made them particularly vulnerable to climate change impacts. The women aged over 64, said their government's climate inaction put them at risk of dying during heatwaves. Europe's top human rights court ruled on Tuesday 9th April that the Swiss government had violated the human rights of its citizens by failing to do enough to combat climate change, in a decision that will set a precedent for future climate lawsuits. In fact, it is proven that women are leading the way towards more equitable and sustainable solutions to climate change.

Plant imagery has been used as a metaphor and even employed to construct national identities. By merging images of women and plants, I hope to suggest a consciousness and a dialogue between the two, stretching our imaginations, and drawing attention to gender inequality and the measurable impact it has on environmental degradation.

The connection to the garden, growing and nurturing plants is part of my practice. Whether working with Anemones in my garden or the delicate nodding bells of the Campanula rotundifolia in Scotland, there is a connection with the environment and sustainable coexistence. The images function, to a degree, like memento mori still lives, in the sense that we are aware on some level of the sober undertones, even while we revel in their sensuous beauty. While leaves, seeds and buds make up the subject matter, the series of images represents both a botanical document and an exploration into the semiotics of natural objects. ‘The plants from the garden’ Stretch our imaginations, transcending metaphor and becoming active characters. Playing with viewpoint and scale gives the plants a new position of centre stage. Through close-up examination they alter their mundane representation and take on new critical significance.

Moving away from manufactured film negatives and working with the slow and deliberate process of hand coating paper to use as the negative. Engaging with this traditional hand made technique embraces the materiality, creating an emotional and tactile connection with the process. In this series the negative is the final piece. The process is unpredictable and time consuming, however the results reveal unexpected details.

August Thalictrum Fennel Chamomile
Pennisetum Sphaerocephalon September Cilantro, Allium tuberosum Perovskia atriplicifolia Anemone Hybrida Honorine Jobert October Fern Osmunda regalis. Echinacea purpurea 'Magnus' Chestnuts Anemone hupehensis 'Hadspen Abundance'

The connection to the garden, growing and nurturing plants is part of my practice. Whether working with Anemones in my garden or the delicate nodding bells of the Campanula rotundifolia in Scotland, there is a connection with the environment and sustainable coexistence. The images function, to a degree, like memento mori still lives, in the sense that we are aware on some level of the sober undertones, even while we revel in their sensuous beauty. While leaves, seeds and buds make up the subject matter, the series of images represents both a botanical document and an exploration into the semiotics of natural objects. ‘The plants from the garden’ Stretch our imaginations, transcending metaphor and becoming active characters. Playing with viewpoint and scale gives the plants a new position of centre stage. Through close-up examination they alter their mundane representation and take on new critical significance.

Working with paper negatives and the large format camera.

‘Derivations’ examines the formal relationship between history and separation, loss and renewal.

Women have always been intrinsically linked to the still life genre ‘Derivations' delves into familial cycles of growth and decay by examining the personal history of a photo album, not concerned with the domestic per se but rather the narrative, the passage of time, and what has gone on in it. The women of Paisley are of huge significance and importance to me; however, it is my hope that they reach further than the individuals in front of the lens. By modifying these moments, ‘Derivations’ reflects on the legacy of the early 20th century.

“for not only are we as sister, wives and mothers the guardians of the future, we are also the custodians of the past”. Eunice Guthrie Murray 1920.

Metaphor and allegory and the hint of something bigger run through these abstract images of books. Far from being just a ubiquitous domestic item, the book is an object whose importance to culture is fundamental.

Historically, books and their shelves have implied access to knowledge, and therefore power. In previous centuries, the book as an object to be collected was almost entirely within the domain of men. Today, despite the prominence of digital publishing, gender continues to influence how we consume words.

No matter if it is Austen or Atwood, the Brontës or Booker winners, data shows men are reluctant to read women – and this has real world implications. The Guardian

A new narrative is formed in capturing the splayed book edges, the moving pages and the spines. The beauty in the form is clear, with its subtly defined linear abstractions, attempting to glean an understanding of the lived experience of reading. By exposing the edges of the paper, we are reminded of how we interact with the written word and the paper it is printed on.

The authority associated with books, book ownership and book furniture were never more evident than during the recent Pandemic. A bookcase, by definition, endures the fast-paced news cycle. As generations adapt to, or are born into, a digital world, the heightened permanence of books becomes more pronounced.

The closeup images of the fore edge, the head and the tail of the books pays homage to the detail and design of the book. The floating books create an alternative aesthetic to the traditional bookcase, the shapes and portals are intended as a pause, an interval, creating an opportunity to step back, and offer a new perspective.

‘Progression’ is a body of work inspired by the work of John Muir, the Scottish Conservationist. Muir was passionate about wild places; he explored them, wrote about them and campaigned to protect them. Muir’s work as a scientist and advocate for nature has continued relevance in modern environmental campaigning. Part of the John Muir Country Park, Yellowcraigs Beach, sand dunes and the North Sea became the main focus of this body of work.

In its depiction of young art students, 'Progression' recognises the dignity and pride of young people and their deep concern for the environment and the future. Merging portraiture and landscapes accentuates the imperative balance that needs to be maintained to protect and conserve the natural landscape.

The ocean and its shores are as much cultural spaces as natural ones. The legacy of painterly depictions of the oceanic, awe-inspiring as a cultural symbol has now given way to a new kind of disturbing awareness of ecological issues. In this regard, the photographic landscapes of the Ocean and the sand dunes, function to a degree like memento mori still lives, in the sense that we are aware on some level of the sober undertones of the scene even while we revel in its sensuous beauty.

Playing with viewpoint and scale gives the seaweed and wild plants a new position of centre stage. Through close-up examination they transcend their mundane representation and take on new critical significance.

Working with in camera techniques to create images of the beach as both fact and fantasy. The dunes themselves barren and curvaceous can appear to be almost not of this world. The fine lines left by the tide, the debris of seaweed and the effects of the wind blowing over the sand are again both real and surreal.

The delicate nodding bells of the Campanula rotundifolia, or simply Scottish bluebell provides a source of nectar for bumblebees and honeybees, these wildflowers are an integral part of the biodiversity of the Sand dunes. In the language of flowers, the Scottish Bluebell stands for grief, humility and submission; the metaphoric associations with the natural world and the climate crisis needs no explaining.

The large-format monochrome portraits contrast with the immediacy of their digital counterparts, depicting young women and men in poses that echo the disciplines of formal portraiture. Working with the slow and deliberate process of large-format paper negatives changes the relationship between the photographer, the sitter and the spectator. The ritual formed between the three parties creates a complex interplay of power, positioning and performance.

The decline of the giant sequoia tree shows that climate change can even bring down one of the oldest living organisms on the earth. Recording this grove of sequoia trees at the Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh was important, the early work of John Muir did not envisage the extreme climate that we now live in. The Campanula rotundifolia, or simply Scottish bluebell provides a source of nectar for bumblebees and honeybees, these wildflowers are an integral part of the biodiversity of the Sand dunes. In the language of flowers, the Scottish Bluebell stands for grief, humility and submission; the metaphoric associations with the natural world and the climate crisis needs no explaining. According to the last red list of the vascular plants, the Campanula rotundifolia was identified as a plant at risk of extinction.

Meaningful collaboration with young people is crucial if change is going to happen, they are the least to blame, and yet the most vulnerable to the effects of climate change.

2022 was not a year that saw progressive change, rather it was a year blighted by regressive politics, the unwillingness to protect and respect the reproductive rights of women and girls across the globe.

Women of Paisley brings together two bodies of work (Derivations & Light Interiors) produced over a decade of making, projecting and repurposing images from the family album. At the core of this body of work is a desire to acknowledge the subordinate position most women have held in relation to men, challenging the way woman have been seen and offering a new perspective.

Derivations respectfully remembers these women from the west coast of Scotland, recognising the under representation of their strength and achievements. The archival materials used in Light Interiors are charged with holding and preserving memories and emotions of women, a testament to the expectations and sorrows that are so often ignored or not discussed.

Home is portrayed as an archive: the artefacts captured are not documents but instead distilled experiences; the fabric of the building provides the backdrop and the unifying link for these projected images. The undeniable physical journey is referred to in the mammogram and ultrasound, over time a woman’s body changes, reorienting her physical purpose and direction in the world. Spanning four generations of my family, these modified images of the women of Paisley are of huge significance and importance to me; however, it is my hope that they reach further than the individuals in front of the lens.

‘The decision of whether or not to bear a child is central to a woman’s life, well-being and dignity. When the government makes that decision for her, she is being treated as less than a full adult human responsible for her own choices.’

Ruth Bader Ginsburg

Video - As an extension to the constructed images the slide show looks closer at the archival material allowing the audience to further consider the characters, landscapes and medical documents. The tender and nostalgic lyrics of the male tenor Joseph Lock adds another insight into the language and cultural space of the early 20th century. The way we use photographs as a tool to remember can often be sentimental and distorted, not reflecting the challenging realities that women face then and now.

Click here to visit the virtual exhibition

‘Light Interiors’ makes the link between past and present and attempts to capture the ephemeral prose and poetry of people’s lives.
Working with the physical characteristics of light, the way it is distributed through doors, windows and openings offers an opportunity to be read and interpreted as signs.
The home is portrayed as an archive, the artefacts captured are not documents but instead a collection of distilled memories. The fabric of the building provides the backdrop and the unifying link for these projected images, recalling memories, emotions and desires. A child’s birthday party, a hospital scan, a formal portrait, interweaved with the remembered vignettes of daily life that form our perception of home. The undeniable physical journey is referenced in the scans and ultrasound. Over time a woman’s body changes, reorienting her physical purpose and direction in the world.
There is a conflicting sense of loss and gain, drawing attention to both the joys, expectations and sorrows that permeate the home. This body of work is a testament that parenthood does not function as an obstacle to making art, but can be an additional material to be mined.

‘The decision of whether or not to bear a child is central to a woman’s life, well-being and dignity. When the government makes that decision for her, she is being treated as less than a full adult human responsible for her own choices.’

Ruth Bader Ginsburg

Virtual Exhibition:

https://www.artsteps.com/view/637bac70266649e47f556d62/?currentUser

In ‘Flotsam & Jetsam’ the domestic has become my main focus, discarded odds and ends from my kitchen cupboards and the garden have become the main characters. This study offers a moment of reflection and contemplation on the landscape of routine existence, dwelling on, and taking pleasure in, the materiality of objects. Aware of the inherent narrative in still life; the sheets of wrapping material, the netting and the reeds from the garden are all suggesting another story. The non-biodegradable material is folded and scrunched into new carnations of shape and form, intentionally jarring with the organic forms.

The emotional bond that exists between the woodland and our human psyche is undeniable; a place that is simultaneously associated with both refuge and peril. The impact the woodland has had on our culture and imaginations, and the way in which it, in turn, has shaped them to answer our needs.

‘The Understory’ are constructed images that challenge the deep-rooted preconceptions of landscape, memory and beauty. Landscape from its beginnings has meant a man-made artefact with associated cultural process values, it is a living link between what we were and what we have become.

Ty Canol, Surrey and Wester Ross make up these constructed images, the ancient woodlands of Scotland, England and Wales. Sites rich in ancient oak, wildflowers and lichens. Woodland provides an important defence against climate change as well as providing resilience in affected ecosystems. The potential of woodlands to soak up CO2 from the atmosphere while providing a host of other benefits for society and biodiversity is becoming increasingly recognised. Forest destruction and habitat loss threatens our future, investing in sustainable forest restoration is integral to biodiversity. A recent report reveals that a fifth of England’s wildflower species are under threat.

Recognising the decline of these humble wildflowers is important. It is not what we see, but a way of seeing, ascribing value to the Woodland and the plants that grow beneath the canopy.

‘Inverted’ looks to investigate the impossible, incongruous, and non-literal reactions to lockdown and its various isolations. This body of work is a reflection of our collective need for green open spaces when deprived of social interaction, the shifting balance between the natural world and our domestic settings. Movement and space allow for introspection, which in turn allows us to engage with our realities, providing a much-needed portal.

The mental health benefits of being in green open spaces is clear, a much-needed respite for our over-stimulated minds. The shapes and portals within the landscapes are intended as a pause in time, an interval, creating an opportunity to step back, think and offer a new perspective.

‘Shifting Stills’. The quiet undertones of transience accompany, and at times dominate, the still life genre. ‘Shifting Stills’ focuses on an array of found, and reclaimed bits from the garden. Bringing this garden detritus into the studio to construct a new narrative; arresting the passage of time and, by inference the transience of life.

A series of photograms

Symphoricarpos x doorenbosii

The science of sleep is incomplete, not least because research on the topic has long ignored half of the population. For decades, sleep studies mostly enrolled men. Now, as sleep researchers are making a more concerted effort to study women, they are uncovering important differences between the sexes.

Women are 40 percent more likely to suffer from sleep disorders than men. Hormonal changes associated with menstruation, pregnancy, and menopause can alter a woman’s circadian rhythm, and consequently contribute to sleeplessness.

Ophelia, Juliet and Rapunzel are just some of the women characters from literature that are still trickling down into the public consciousness. ‘Somnolence’ attempts to repurposes the stereotypical classifications of women, inviting the viewer to reinterpret these pictorial legacies.

This series explores the subject of dreams and their relation to the subconscious.  Frozen in the stasis of a dream state, the women of Somnolence are presented at the very extremes of hypersomnia. During the periods preceding sleep, different conscious states meld together to form long term memory; the series attempts to visualise these windows that occur each time we fall asleep. The trance-like nature of these images aims to resonate with a universal experience that resides at the borders of our memories.  

In the Edinburgh series flowering thistles are not pictured for their beauty, and 17th century Edinburgh is not portrayed in the service of ornament or nostalgia; rather, both become structural elements of an abstract visual language. These images are observations, inspecting the traces and stages of time.