A Corner of Home Maxwell Anderson
A CORNER OF HOME
Maxwell Anderson
Published 6 July, 2020
In the days that have passed and the days that are to come, we'll all be spending more time indoors. A Corner of Home collects photographic studies and new works made by artists in their immediate environments; small snapshots of the impulse to create.
Edited by Trine Stephensen and Joanna Cresswell
During lockdown I have been staying with my Mum in South East London where I grew up. I spent about 2 months from just before the lockdown making sure everything was safe for her and really that was my whole focus. I have been self isolating since the beginning of March. Being at home, in the place where I developed my understanding of how I wanted to express myself when I was younger, has allowed me to re-sync with myself. I have been able to connect with what truly makes me feel satisfied with making photographs, without any ulterior influence. In a twist of paradox, I have actually felt extremely free. Free to experiment and express myself in a way that feels much more natural than usual. I have been at odds with photography and my work for a long time, and I have questioned myself a number of times as to what it means to me. But being in an environment which is simply honest and un-boastful has been a remedy, in part, to the spite of anxiety that has distracted my sense of things. Being isolated, surrounded by things that built the foundations of my Self, has kind of cleared the murkiness of my sense of being, to a degree.
The garden has been my sanctuary of sanity. That's where I have spent most of my time. Also just gardening has been great... I never thought I would spend so much time (or any time) trying to clean rocks. That has created a space where I can get really close to everyday nature. I love everyday nature, it's unassumingly teeming with activity, fast paced and slow moving activity. There's a whole other world and understanding of time that exists everywhere, all around us, everyday, that we cannot fathom. When we think of nature, grass is often overlooked in place of rainforests. Puddles of water are drowned out by evening rivers and lakes. Mud and dirt are buried by images of deserts and canyons, and honey bees and pigeons and ants and spiders are always outdone by bigger versions somewhere else... But stick your head in a pond and you will find so much beauty and wonder within a square metre that will blow your mind for days on end.
I've had the opportunity to think a lot. To think unashamedly. Returning to the same place over and over again, wondering if something might have changed. Something physical, or something psychological. Confronting my own disappointments and being honest about it. Hoping for something better, and accepting the existence and state of things. Finding new meanings in the repetition of things. And appreciating the details in the normality of things. Our minds are wild gardens that we are constantly trying to tame, re-ordering what exists and what we can see. We are intrinsically bound to objects and finding their meaning within the context of our understanding of things. Our relationships to those objects change through time and from person to person, manipulating the subjective state of physical things, as their meanings are transient. I've been thinking about that lately. I have noticed that nothing changes unless you want it to change.
I haven't really felt inspired enough to complete, or even initiate, a new body of work for a very long time. I guess I have had lots of distractions and anxieties that have been wholly stubborn and overpowering. But with this time to think, read, and calmly look, I've felt more comfortable returning to some form of visual expression. I've turned my camera to things I have a pure fascination for. Things that naturally trigger my senses and emotional state, without having to force any ideas of intrigue. And importantly I've allowed this to happen, and allowed it to transform in it's own way. Experimenting with ideas and not being afraid of the outcome. I wanted to make some work to reflect all of these things I have been thinking about. About place. About my insecurities and revelations. About isolation and seeing new meaning in things. About returning and repetition and divulgences. And about the beauty and wonder and depth of small things.
