Ellie Burd is an emerging photographer shedding light onto intimate perspectives with her projects such as She may not remember you and Laid Bare. In the former, she worked with women who had Dementia, engaging with them over an extended period, dedicating time to bring attention to their world and those around them. We spoke with her about the process of navigating relationships behind the camera, perspectives in photography and following on from university.
Tell us a little bit about yourself.
I’m a 23 year old photographer currently based in London. I am from rural Herefordshire on the England/Wales border, which I think explains why I always feel most at ease either intimately photographing people, or making work amongst nature. I completed by BA Photography degree last summer at the University of the West of England in Bristol.
Your work largely works in a documentary capacity – capturing intimate moments and people held with a careful tenderness and consideration, a feeling that is unique to your work. Each participant seems aware and open, while maintaining transparency and vulnerability. How do you navigate this relationship with those you photograph? In invoking consent and awareness within a photojournalism project, what attempts do you make to provide authenticity?
This is a question that must really be split up to address my different work. For example, in Laid Bare, my project focusing on women and their body image, all the women had volunteered to be photographed and thus had given full consent. We had very open discussions before and after making the pictures where we talked about their own experiences, which often explained why they had volunteered to be photographed. Some discussions were extremely difficult, or sad, or heart-breaking, but were honest. I tried to make images that reflected our conversations and these women’s experiences, allowing them to take the lead in posing and positioning.
On the other hand, whilst working on She may not remember you, the situation was very different. None of the women I photographed who had various forms of dementia had the capacity to give their own consent – instead it was given by their partners or other family members who were able to. At the beginning of the work, having seen what I had through my own experience of dementia, my intention was to shine a light on the partners who care for their loved ones as they deteriorate, as my own Grandad had for my Grandma. I wasn’t sure that anyone would be willing to allow me to photograph those actually suffering from the disease. However, as it soon became apparent, most people were more than willing for me to photograph them, and actively encouraged it. The thing I found most poignant throughout this experience was how, quite often, when pointing a camera at someone, it would bring back a moment of lucidity – there’s something about the act of being photographed that often seems to bring these people back to the surface.
I do not class myself as a photojournalist and never would – all of my work is expressing my own experience of these situations, whether they are spending time with women amongst discussions of their body image, or of sufferers of Dementia. I never aim to provide a true reflection, because I cannot, so cannot attest to the authenticity of my work. I spend short moments of time with these people, I don’t live their lives day in day out and see what it’s really like, I am simply creating something which reflects the small periods of time I spend with them.
However, I hope that my images are something which people are able to connect to, especially those who know someone with dementia, and can hopefully see something of their own situation and experiences in the images I make for this work.
One of your photographic series, She May Not Remember You discussed the effects of those living with Dementia and involved a long-term immersive experience of surrounding yourself with those living with the illness. This is evident in the earnest depth provided in the photographs. What compelled you to bring this conversation to the forefront?
Memory and memories have always fascinated me from a young age. I’ve been drawn to Dementia specifically since a teenager, as I saw my Grandma deteriorate due to Alzheimer’s. My Grandad cared for her and I saw what a strain on him, and the rest of the family, it was. Being able to talk about my own first-hand experience has most definitely allowed me to instil trust in the people I’ve met, as I’m not a complete outsider to their situation. Perhaps most importantly for me, making this work has taught me a huge amount about the breadth of dementia, and shown me that the extreme effects that we experienced in my family is not how it is for everyone.
People who continue to care for their loved ones at home often become more and more isolated and distanced from other people, as it becomes difficult to leave home and carry out normal routines. Although a lot of people have some experience of Dementia through their own families, not everyone does. So often, aging, and the problems associated with that, are ignored because we don’t want to face up to them, or because we’re scared of it, or because we know someone who’s been through it and it’s therefore hard to think about. Ignoring such a problem doesn’t make it go away, and it only makes things harder for the people who are living with this, or supporting someone who is. It cuts them off and allows them to feel isolated. Aging and memory are something we should all be having an active conversation about, as we all continue to live for longer. I’d like to think that the work can provide hope in a situation which often seems stripped of hope.
You recently graduated – how are you managing transitioning from a period of study into the working world? What advice would you give others in the same position?
It has been a really strange time, and my heart breaks for those graduating this year with all of the uncertainty that 2020 has brought. I was lucky to get a job after graduating at a photography agency in London, which has allowed me to move there and begin to settle, but I’ve found it hard balancing that alongside shooting.
I think the most important thing I’ve come to appreciate in the past 12 months is removing pressure. I threw my all into my degree and had very little free time or time off. I was always shooting, or planning, or developing, or looking at my work. After the shows, when the momentum just stopped, it was a very difficult time. I am extremely fortunate that I landed that job, or I am really not sure what I would have ended up doing.
In the 12 months since I graduated, I have learnt to not stress that I am not producing or shooting as much as I might like – and keep reminding myself that some photographers do not even discover photography until a much later age. I am lucky that I have always known this is my way of expressing, so I am trying to slow down and allow things to happen at their own pace. I think that’s an important lesson to learn, particularly once the fast-paced and constant university deadlines disappear when you graduate.
I have also been constantly reminded how important it is to still have the creative community I developed through my time studying, and I am lucky that I am still a part of that.
How do you feel photography and other forms of visual media are an effective tool to provide insight into underlooked perspectives? Why do you choose this vein to express these stories in?
I have always loved the universality of photography. I think it is an effective tool thanks to its accessibility – I like to think my work is something which people who are well aware of photography can enjoy, as well as people with less of a photographic interest, but more of a personal interest in the themes I often focus on.
What are your next steps as a photographer and what do you hope to achieve?
A year after graduating this is still a question that instils dread in me. I think, simply, I want to continue to produce work that I believe in and on subjects that I engage with. Whether the work will ever be for a wider audience, or more simply as an outlet for me, I don’t know. I crave structure and routine, and unfortunately that’s not really something that goes hand in hand with most careers within photography.
