Cyanotype on red.jpg
 

Paperlightprocess, a concise yet captivating body of work by the photographic artist Megan Ringrose was recently exhibited at 4 Masons Yard, a gallery space opposite the White Cube Gallery in London. The work presented at the exhibition, a series of abstract cyanotypes, is a single photographers’ attempt to liberate herself from the camera. Through this work she is, in her own words, ‘deliberately turning away from typical methods of recording photographs …’. Her work, which she recognises was ‘born out of a need to make a mark with light’, is an unadulterated artistic investigation into the abstract nature of the photochemical process, of light and the physicality of photographic objects.

Ringroses’ photographic objects are devoid of the inherent tautological realism usually characteristic of the photographic medium. They do however offer propositions of a more universal and elemental kind; they explore form, notions of indelibility, the materiality of paper and photographs, the physical properties of light, of colour and the nature of time, within a photographic sense and within a much wider conceptual and artistic framework. The work is underpinned by a refreshingly playful consilience; it traverses the mediums of photography, painting and sculpture, going further still, flirting with pools of knowledge and theory familiar to the fields of mathematics, the natural sciences and philosophy. 

Working with the photographic process on such an elemental level, Ringrose has control over each facet of the process, including the photochemistry and its application. Photographers who use historical processes, such as the cyanotype process, usually formulate their own chemistry, reminding us that photographers were once chemists who, out of pure necessity, had to become acutely knowledgeable about the mechanics of chemical photography. This is perhaps something we may be at risk of losing, those who truly understand both the artistry and the underlying mechanisms of photography. There is something undeniably alluring about what may be called the alchemy of photography. In addition, Paperlightprocess, and by extension the eclectic world of camera-less photography as a whole, reminds us the defining feature of photography, the feature without which there would be no photography, is not the camera but photographic media. Ringrose is attempting to define photography by examining a historical form of photographic media from a contemporary perspective. The cyanotype process is made distinct from all other photographic processes by the blue pigment that forms the fixed image. Unbeknown to many who use the cyanotype process, the pigment formed when the image is fixed is, in fact, the same pigment as the synthetic Prussian Blue discovered by the Swiss alchemist Johann Jacob Diesbach at the beginning of the 18th century. The relevance that this pigment has to Ringroses’ work may seem tenuous; however, it is worth delving a little deeper. Prussian Blue was the first truly synthetic pigment.  Before synthetic colourants, the dyes and pigments utilised by artists were found in minerals or had to be extracted from biological resources. It cannot be understated how crucial synthetic colourants were during the advent and advance in 19th and 20th photographic technologies. Organic chemistry, and by extension organic dye chemistry, established and developed almost in tandem with the photographic medium. Colour photography as we know it would not have been possible if synthetic dyes had not been first conceived. The cyanotype process suddenly seems to take on a much greater cultural significance in light of this knowledge. In fact, the cyanotype process and the pigment that made it possible occupy a significant (and perhaps understated) place in the history and study of photography.   

The photographic objects that makeup Paperlightprocess are perhaps best understood and pictured by first visualising the process by which they are made. Once the cyanotype chemistry has been applied to the surface of the paper, the paper is then folded in on itself, so that the folds cover regions of the sensitised paper. The cyanotype chemistry is applied to three sets of coloured paper, forming three distinct units within the series. These units are made distinct by the colour paper base upon which the chemistry is applied. The first unit utilises a red paper base, the second a green and the third a blue.  Once coated and folded, the paper was then exposed to daylight. The areas of the coated paper concealed by the folds do not receive exposure. Whereas, the areas of cyanotype chemistry exposed to daylight chemically reduce, rendering the emulsion in these areas insoluble. After exposure, the paper is submerged in water. The unexposed emulsion washes away revealing the coloured paper underneath. The exposed, and therefore insoluble, emulsion forms a Prussian Blue pigment which cannot be washed out of the paper. This process maps a negative impression of the light as it interacts with the folded paper during the exposure. The folding and coating of the paper are both physical actions. Physical actions often seem alien to the mechanised medium of photography. The coating of the paper is a process which seems more akin to painting than it does photography. The object created at the end of this process is a unique, unreproducible and therefore sacred, photographic print.      

Many of the prints within Paperlightprocess were exposed and recoated several times. The images on the surface of the prints are in fact amalgamations of serval images. Moreover, even though the images seem to possess a certain spontaneity, the exposures required to form an impression upon the sheets of paper are extremely long.  This style of photography requires perhaps what Bergson identified as Durational Time, opposed to the Numerical Time of mechanised photography. The Italian futurists were interested in this notion of Bergsonian durational time. Take, for example, Mario Bellusi and his 1930 Image, Modern Traffic in Ancient Rome. This image is in fact several images combined to form a single image that reveals a place as it evolves through time. By doing so Bellusi forces the scene he tries to represent into abstraction. Of course, the artist in both cases is the only person who experiences the durational time during which the images were made. But it is important to appreciate the durational quality of the works. The works conception is in some way relevant to our reading of it. Process orientated work demands that we picture its making because its making is inherently one of its defining properties. There are also certain similarities between Ringroses’ work and the work of Barbara Kasten. Kasten’s work, as with Ringroses’ work, is defined by the multimedia approach that she embraces. She not only employs a wide range of photographic mediums and materials but also explores many beyond the realm of photography. Kasten often uses photography as a means of exploring other mediums including sculpture, architecture and choreography. Kasten and Ringrose also explore similar subject matters through abstraction, namely colour, light, materiality and so on. 

The show at Masons Yard showcased two series from Paperlightprocess. The first series of twelve sheets presented in a grid which was elevated above the viewer. Each row within this grid consisted of a set of four of the coloured sheets. Each sheet within the row was the same primary colour; the first-row red, the second green and the third blue. The second series, presented along the far wall of the exhibition space, was a set of much larger photographic objects. The larger pieces, which were presented at eye level, allowed the viewer to examine, in detail, the material nature of the work; the weight and grain of the paper, the folds and the interaction between pigment and coloured paper. As with the cyanotype process and the Prussian Blue pigment, there is much to be extracted from the use of these three primary colours. Red, green and blue are the additive primaries.  These three colours were identified (or rather confirmed) as significant at the beginning of the 19th century by Thomas Young. Young’s Trichromatic Theory of Colour Vision correctly identified that the human retina is able to perceive three discrete wavelengths of light, short wavelengths (blue light), medium wavelengths (green light) and long wavelengths (red light); hence why our three primaries are Red Green and Blue. By combining these three colours, or the subtractive primaries (cyan, magenta and yellow), in different intensities, it is possible to create any colour within the visual spectrum. Almost all colour photographic processes synthesize colour by combining either the additive or subtractive primaries. In this way, the series deals directly with the elemental concept that underpins our understanding of photography and colour vision. The pigment fixed upon the colour paper contributes yet a further dimension. The blue pigment interacts with the paper, rendering different colours when blended with each of the primaries. It is this combination of coloured paper and pigment that introduces the expressive elements of this work. There is something almost spontaneous, musical almost, about the forms on the surface of the photographic objects. In fact, units of colour, such as the discreet units that comprise this work, have similar functionality, within a visual arts’ context, to the musical modes of western music. This is most apparent when viewing colour through abstraction.   For example, the red paper, when combined with the blue pigment forms a deep, almost black, tone. The vitality of the red is abruptly challenged by this black. The blue pigment on the blue paper seems almost characteristic of an Ad Reinhardt painting. Definition within the blue works, as with Reinhardt’s Blue paintings, is not created by blocks of different colour but rather blocks of the same colour made distinct by almost indefinitely differing tonal rendition. The coloured paper and cyanotype emotion act as both media and subject within this work. 

The notion of indelibility is central to this work. As Ringrose points out, the folds made during the making of these objects are indelible. As she remarks – ‘While folding the works I was mindful of how folds cannot be unfolded, they are final.’ She draws from these permanent folds a poignant metaphor. These folds remind us that our actions are indelible. Our impact upon the world and the environment is ineradicable. As Ringrose puts it, ‘… we cannot unfold the environmental damage that has occurred …’ I, however, am tempted to add a note to this interpretation. We may be unable to unfold the impacts of our actions, and we are unable to exist passively, without making our mark upon the world. We are, however, able to choose what marks we leave behind. If the folds that we leave behind are indelible, we ought to be thoughtful as to the folds that we make. We ought to harness our ability to fold the world to make it a more equitable and humane place, to regenerate and nurture our biological wealth, to disseminate power and information democratically and to love and cultivate beauty. Paper Light Process attempts to harness our imagination in order to reveal something about the nature of the photochemical process but in doing so it begins to reveal something more fundamental about materiality and persistence.

Text: Edward Woolley