Saudade

Saudade is an exploration into nostalgia for your childhood self. After nearly twenty years in the school system, graduation feels like a final departure from childhood and the safety net of being a student. Saudade is my exploration of that shift into adulthood, to feel the quiet heartbreak of leaving the past and the excitement of the future. This project considers the importance of remembering who we were, learning to accept change with fondness, and embracing personal growth.

Each image features a box I constructed based on interviews with the subjects about their childhood bedrooms. My interpretation of the rooms is somewhat surreal, emphasising them as a memory and the distortion of recalling a place through a child’s perspective. The bedrooms are presented in miniature and paired with the subject’s head, creating a visual metaphor for outgrowing a chapter of life, becoming, quite literally, too big for your childhood self.

All images were taken on a 5×4 large format camera; it was important that this project remained analogue, a physical representation of place and memory. The camera itself serves as a room where these memories are physically preserved.

The word Saudade is a Portuguese term I stumbled across in my research. It does not have a direct translation, but can be understood as an emotional state of deep melancholic or nostalgic longing for a person or thing that is absent. I felt this to be a fitting title.

With eternal thanks to Maggie, Lois, Noah, Dave and Mo.

School of Design / Communication Design / Rosa Dury / The Surveyor/Surveyed

The Surveyor/Surveyed

The Surveyor/Surveyeds starting point was a meme I saw on Tumblr years ago. It was of two identical head silhouettes, one labelled man and the other woman. The man’s mind showed an apple alone, and the woman’s, an image of her eating an apple. I looked to myself to see whether I found this image to be true; the more I assessed my daily life, the more I caught myself performing for an imaginary crowd. Even when alone, I was creating a version of me to be viewed, creating a “second self that felt more polished, more considered, and over time, detached.

Influenced by John Berger’s Ways of Seeing, I focused on his essay on women.

“And so she comes to consider the surveyor and the surveyed within her as two constituent yet always distinct elements of her identity as a woman”

 

These photographs are an attempt to merge back into this constructed image, to recognise her as an extension of the self, equally as me as l am her. Questioning where the boundary lies between authenticity and performance, and whether that boundary ever truly existed at all. I hope my photographs are a reminder that you can move between versions of who you are, that while we adapt and reshape ourselves for this world, every version, performed or otherwise, still belongs to us.

The Witch Guide

The Witch Guide is an exploration into the 16th/17th century witch trials, where globally thousands of women were accused and prosecuted for witchcraft under laws shaped by fear, theology, and societal control. It aims to draw connections between early modern ideas of witchcraft and contemporary forms of misogyny, asking how systems of blame continue to target women who fall outside social norms. Through archival material and contemporary references, it questions what has changed and what remains the same.

The Vigil

Content Warning: Nudity

The Vigil explores the naked form with the aim to investigate what a nude is and what it can communicate. My approach included dramatised light to encourage heavy contrast and create a moody atmosphere. I used hair as a prop to help build a unified visual language and orchestrated the poses around how the hair interacted with the body. The series is titled The Vigil, referencing a period of wakefulness during the dark hours, usually reserved for sleep. I wanted these photos to serve as a representation of a solitary moment, isolated and introspective.

‘in the little dark, the witch sits’ excerpt from the poem, Witch by Rebecca Tamás

The Vigil
The Vigil
The Vigil
The Vigil
The Vigil
The Vigil
The Vigil
The Vigil
The Vigil
The Vigil