Tim Walker: "Storyteller" Exhibition at Somerset House

18th October 2012- 27th January 2012

Supported by Mulberry

Tim Walker is renowned worldwide to be one of the great fashion photographers of the 21st century. His fantastical, fairy tale images are of a staggering creation, even in today's contemporary art world. The chance to see Walker's photographs exhibited is, in itself, a sight to behold. However, what sets this apart from other current exhibitions is that alongside the images, you are given the chance to walk amongst the very props that Tim Walker uses to create the magical worlds in which he creates work.

Walker's work fuses a dreamy childhood nostalgia with the cutting edge of contemporary fashion. He is no stranger to huge names in the fashion world such as Alexander McQueen (a distinctively intimate portrait of whom can be seen in the Storyteller show), Meadham Kirchoff, and is a resident name inside the pages of Vogue and LOVE magazine, to name a few. However, as you walk amongst giant clam shells and a four-piece string quartet of insects, it becomes clear that Walker's success is not due to who features in his photographs, or what they wear. It is the sheer magnitude of creation, that most people tend to lose sight of aged around 8 or 9.  Walker has, incredibly, not only kept in touch with this, but projected it into creating some of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring photographs of the 21st century.

Nothing can prepare you for the way you are thrown into an imagination time warp when you enter the exhibition in the east wing galleries at Somerset House. There is no easing you in- the first room is filled mostly with a bright blue model Spitfire inspired by the 1946 film "A Matter of Life and Death", designed by Andy Hillman. This is surrounded by Tim's photographs of the Spitfire crash landing into Lily Donaldson's drawing room at Glemham Hall in a wonderfully glamourous 1940s styled shoot.

This is just the beginning. Throughout the exhibition, you will find yourself at the foot of the pile of sand, at the top of which, behind a door stands a life-sized Agyness Deyn, beneath a giant snail the size of a dog, and pondering an image of a granny in a space ship. There are no boundaries to Tim Walker's imagination. Interestingly, Walker himself seems to have more than plentiful faith in this. His images are not titled with the fanciful names you might expect them to be-  simply a descriptor of who, where and when ("Malgosia Bella and skeleton; Essex, UK; 2009"). Truthfully, he doesn't need to title his images any more extravagantly than this. There is enough to make your imagination fly and your heart flutter with childhood nostalgia in the image alone. There is no need for a title that offers anything more than the facts. Walker gives you the tools to construct any embellishment or narrative by yourself.

For myself, one of the most exciting pieces of the exhibition is the huge swan boat which has featured in a number of my personal favourite images by Walker. These objects in themselves carry an air of magic- as if by lying dormant they are inconspicuous, but the images surrounding them are proof of their alternate lives in a dream like world- from the giant clam where Clementine Keith-Roach dozed like a fairy tale Venus to the exquisite swan boat. Like a toy that comes alive at night, you wait for the swan to slip up and blink or move its head- so much does it seem to come to life in the image "Fantasia on a Nautical Theme".

"Very often there is a kind of nostalgia built into a photograph, by virtue of taking it. You've taken the photograph and it's immediately a thing of the past the moment you press the shutter."

Admittedly, there was one area of the exhibition which I personally found underwhelming- "Slight Angle to the Universe" seemed too much like Tim Walker's take on Martin Parr, depicting more or less everyday scenes with an odd twist- for example, a fox hunt with one of the hunters having had their horse replaced with a space ship. Although undoubtedly still wonderful photographs, to me they just didn't encapsulate the same fairy tale magic as the rest of the exhibition. Whereas the rest of the images in the show do live up to Walker as the "storyteller", leaving you as the viewer with your mind overflowing with ideas and inspiration, the "Universe" series left me feeling like I had been shortchanged in these stories- there just wasn't enough imagination in them to inspire anything in me.

It was, then, a huge and very welcome surprise when in the last room I found the prop of my all time favourite Tim Walker photo-shoot.

The huge, 10ft baby doll that was featured chasing Lyndsey Wixson in Vogue Italia earlier this year waits in the final room of the exhibition. She is as creepy in life as she appeared in the shoot, and the detail in her is incredible. You are given the chance to get up close and personal with her, everything from her thick eyelashes to her many underskirts. She is both terrifying, and beautiful. Even more excitingly, the exhibition also features some of Walker's doodles and notes in planning the shoot, and the dolls adventures alongside Wixson. 

This is essentially the epitome of Walker's work. Creating something, from scratch, that he then brings to life in such a beautiful and wonderful way. Whether it be gorgeous and fantastical, or the stuff that, as a child, your nightmares were made of, it cannot be denied that Walker's photographs have their own kind of magic- the kind that transports us all back to a time when our imaginations ruled our world, and it was certainly possible to have a nap in a giant seashell, if we so wished. 

Francesca Woodman- an artist study

Francesca Woodman is consistently one of the most important artists to have influenced my work and to have helped me understand and explore myself through photography. Woodman’s career was brief- having committed suicide at 22, a fact which I believe is crucial to understanding her work.

            Woodman’s photographs deal with ideas of femininity and the self, alongside loneliness and inner turmoil. Of course, it would be ignorant to think that her work is entirely transparent and “readable”- but to me, the mystery only adds to the beauty.

Francesca Woodman: House #3, Providence, Rhode Island, 1976

One of the key aspects of Woodman’s images is the way in which she finds beauty in unexpected places- namely, abandoned buildings, dusty and forgotten, broken and unwanted. Within these unremarkable buildings, she creates the remarkable- simply by placing a figure there. And yet, the figure isn’t as “present” as its surroundings.

This doesn’t, however, make it any less important or relevant. The addition of this figure- a suggestion of human life in a place that has been abandoned- creates a kind of mystery and magic, creating an overall feeling of solemnity. The figure in the images is alone, and the movement of the body shows life alongside fragility, a fleeting moment, rendering the body not entirely there.

Francesca Woodman, Untitled, Boulder, Colorado, 1972–1975

The images never give you a definitive answer, and to me this makes them all the more alluring. Woodman presents the female as a mysterious creature, somehow more than human, something fragile yet solitary.  The use of the female form creates softness, something almost comforting and familiar in the images- and yet rarely, if ever, do we see a face. The creatures we see don’t have an identity, and yet are presented as vulnerable- shown mainly nude, a vulnerable state, and in a lonely solitary place, which looks as though it may collapse at any moment.

In this, however, there is a kind of strength. The figures we see may be alone, naked, and inhabiting abandoned houses- yet they are still alive. They still exist, and are presented as something quite beautiful in Woodman’s images.

      Francesca Woodman: Untitled, Providence, Rhode Island, 1976

A beautiful quality to Woodman’s work- indeed, one of my favorite aspects about it, is the way she captures on film occurrences that are non-existent in true life. By using a slow shutter speed, Woodman captures movement- the figures in her images becoming fluid and ghostly, a feat unachievable to the human eye. She creates the unreal within the real.

Francesca Woodman: From Angel series, Rome, 1977

I think the understanding of Woodman’s work becomes clearer with time- by taking the time to look through her portfolio, and by asking the questions that will inevitably remain unanswered, you find yourself within the images- embraced in the mystery that her photographs create. That is the beauty of Woodman’s work; there will never be a definitive answer the questions it raises. Indeed, I believe that even if she were still alive today, the questions would remain unanswered.