Joanne Coates is a highly accomplished photographer based in the North of England who graduated from the London College of Communication in 2015. She was selected to take part in the 209 Women project - a large commission which saw the 209 Women MPs be photographed by female photographers. Jo portrays the seafarers and the people of the land with poetry and verve while shattering misconceptions along the way.
Not comfortable with the status quo, she is prepared to question the issue of class in Photography and does so thoroughly and in a forthright way. In this interview, Jo is candid and deeply medidative probing her relationship with the landscape, cities, class barriers and discussing her artistic heroes and heroines.
Jo runs Lens Think Yorkshire, an organisation dedicated to supporting new and existing photographers and providing a non-hierarchical structure of opportunities, talks and solidarity.
Her plaudits include a Metro Imaging Portfolio Prize, a Magnum Portfolio Review and the Magenta Flash Forward Top 30 Award.
Your work is based in rural, remote and seafaring areas. So much of documentary photography is based around the city although of course there are exceptions (Ansel Adams, Alec Soth, etc). Do you feel like your practice traverses both places (i.e. do you bring something of the city's atmosphere to your portraits in the landscape?)
Hello Eli! Great question. I haven’t actually considered the city being a part of my practice before. From when I was 16 to 25 I lived and spent time in cities. Now I work frequently in cities but I focus more on the remote and the rural. The influence of the urban does seep in. I tell the stories I am in the right place to tell. I am from a rural area and always wanted to escape as soon as I could. I now embrace both of these things, the understanding of place and the desire for escapism.
I don’t feel I necessarily bring cities and their atmosphere but rather portray a depth of understanding, respect, and community values from the rural. I hope my portraits traverse both the contemporary and archaic, which is how they may connect to the urban and the rural. Remote areas within photography are still expressed as either pastoral with rolling green hills, wheat fields. . . The idealised version or backward, eerie, isolating places. These stereotypes based on polarities aren’t helpful. There is a level of understanding of the remote, the rural that is uncanny, that speaks of hidden sufferings and contested ownerships. It isn’t a picturesque subject to me. It’s an eerie realm that I enjoy living in. I’m really not keen on the outsider version of that pastoral tranquil dream of country life and social order.
You were nominated as part of RPS heroines and have been part of the 209 women project. Do you think it's a good time for women in photography? Who are some of the women you admire in photography?
It’s a great time for women. I think a catalyst has been Daniella Zalcman’s organisation ‘Women Photograph’. It’s important to remember women have been doing great things throughout the history of photography, but are only just being acknowledged. There are so many women within Photography who I really admire, and like what they are doing and what they are about. Just a few of these are Anna Fox, and Ingrid Pollard who photograph the rural with raw, unique and brilliant approaches. The writing of Yves Lomax on Photography really inspires me. Tish Murtha, and now her daughter Ella, for bringing the work of a working class women into The Photographers Gallery, which I loved. Anne McNeil, and actually the whole team at Impressions gallery do great things. Rebecca Marr is a photographer, and curator based in Orkney. Marr has been doing brilliant things in the North for a long time, and her own work is interesting again avoiding stereotypes. I love how socially engaged practitioner Becky Warnock addresses issues in her work. Lynda Laird’s work is outstanding. Kate O’Neill who runs the Old Girls Club is also brilliant – her work in this industry blows my mind. Someone whose work and ethos I really admire and again visually but ethically think is spot on is Raphaela Rosella. There are so many women whose work I love, who work hard and have families, who do what they do and don’t get credit. I am hoping in the future to able to name more working class females when asked this question!
You are vocal on social media about class inequality in the Arts and particularly Photography. What are some of the hurdles you've faced/face by virtue of class?
Growing up we (my family and I, my friends) didn’t speak about class. You just didn’t talk about money or a lack of it. You got on with it. I honestly never know whether to bring personal experience into the class debate as it can alienate those who don’t understand. Class is complex, it can come across as confrontational, and people don’t like to hear it. Hurdles are complicated and they are plentiful. It’s not just about not having money, and coming from a low income background. It’s Access to education . . . It’s Access to opportunities . . . It’s Access to social connections. The biggest hurdle is the ‘Class ceiling’. The worst: the power play. The absolutely debilitating lack of confidence in yourself and in your abilities but it’s a double edged sword that comes with resilience, stubbornness, and a work ethic like no other. There are also countless times when you’re met with a very blunt ‘class is dead’ as declared by the very trustworthy likes of Tony Blair and John Major. Most recently, I had asked a gallery whose aims are portrayal of the working classes, ‘why they don’t feature working class artists, or for that matter Northern artists.’ I was told in a very conservative manner that this is an upwardly mobile country, class leaves you when you study, and that the only thing holding you back from success is your own ability. This flies in the face of how often the working classes are ignored.
“Delegitimizing the working class is a step towards removing working class voices. If we want working class writers, actors, politicians and judges - and if we want those institutions to understand working class life - then we need to expect the working class to be educated and intelligent and perhaps even cultured.”
Nathan Connolly, Director of Dead Ink and Editor of Know Your Place: Essays on the Working Class by the Working Class.
I’m always very wary of sharing personal stories, but I think my route to study is an important tale to tell. I left home at sixteen. Wanting to escape, to leave it all behind. Hard circumstances meant I had to leave. I worked as a carer, in a call centre, in a cinema - while studying A Levels in Manchester. I didn’t go out. I walked miles to college every day. My room was damp and I didn't have heating or a computer. I had 10 quid a week to live on. That was the easy part. I saved for three years to have enough money for further study. I got a massive overdraft to put my deposit down for student accommodation which meant I was in debt before I even started day one of study. Again none of this was the hard bit, it was just life.
It was only when I began my degree that I became more aware of social and economic disparities. Really simple things start to eat away at you: people mocking the way you speak, the way you are, what you eat – it wore me down.We were reminded at nearly every turn how ‘this isn't for you’. It’s not just that you have to work, that you’re exhausted, that you are stressed about money, about having somewhere to live. You are told that if you care, you will put the money in and the work in. You can only put the work in. Imposter or outsider syndrome really starts to play on your mind.
I thought getting to study, breaking through my background, getting access to university - that things would change. After graduating there was nothing but more hurdles. At every level despite overcoming massive issues, we are met with barriers. It’s not just the money. It’s the experience of walking into a room and knowing you don't belong. Growing up you don’t go to galleries, you don't step foot in cultural institutions, you don't know that university is for you. It’s that frustration that gatekeepers still keep you in your place. It’s the hardship you go through, the very real fear, being right on the edge. The exhaustion that comes with it. I don’t want to point fingers, to raise times when it’s been hard, I want to go forward to help educate those who may not even know that they are oppressing with their actions and limited view. If we don’t let working class people come into the world of photography and tell their own stories we are just telling them to know their place. To be the photographed stereotype.
Do you feel like you're redressing the balance with ventures such as Lens Think in the support you're able to offer other working class artists?
Yes, but very S L O W L Y! I am very aware we are slowly making small changes BUT by being the one to step up and speak out, we’re paving the way for other people. It makes people consider. It makes them accountable. It also put class firmly out there. It gives others the chance to share. At the end of last year I decided to turn Lens Think into a social enterprise so it can achieve more of its goals. I really started to think about my mission and values, what I want people to be able to get from Lens Think. What might have been acceptable 40 years ago no longer is. We have to think with the future in mind. Having privilege is not a crime, but being transparent, and helping others should be encouraged.
Lens Think started out as a creative community of people that offer advice and a place where people exchange ideas about their work easing some of the pressures of this industry. A network of peers who meet and support each other.
There are so many rejections in this industry we are told we need to be tough, and develop a thick skin. The problem lies in that most creative are sensitive people, the pressures can take their toll. A physical meeting won’t solve any of the problems within the photographic industry BUT what it can do is be a great place to encourage inclusivity and to allow people to be curious and to meet people that they can form collaborative projects with. I wanted to set up a non-elitist group where it didn’t matter if you were established or starting out – where everyone was welcome to share ideas and experiment.
We mentor young people with limited access to the arts and organise workshops and residencies, and partner up with larger Arts organisations. We’ve put on exhibitions, and pop-ups. It’s important that these opportunities are given to marginalized groups, but that doesn’t apply just to class. I care deeply about class. I wanted Lens Think to have values of open mindedness, diversity and equality across the medium. So that means working with Photographers who are mums, who are over forty, who are from working class backgrounds, who identify as non-binary, who are LGBTQ+, who are not white. Unless we work together and address these issues they won’t change. I hope I am able to offer support, in small ways that matter. I would love to see more diversity in the arts. This is a massive challenge, but we are already making changes that have made other organisations and individuals do the same.
Do you feel like walking and feeling part of the landscape enhances your wellbeing?
I have always had a connection to the land and to the practice of walking. Growing up in the midst of it, it was always my escape. Walking allows us to contemplate ideas about society, it is a secluded form of mediation, an on-going study of nature. The English landscape has deep roots - it is embedded with revolts, with tragedy, class struggles and political acts all immersed within myth, within the realm of the unknown. There remain huge taboos about mental illness in our society. Through escapism, a wandering to find oneself but remain lost, I am able to begin to understand my own mental health issues. Anxiety and depression are the most common mental health problems, and I feel as though these problems come from our inability to escape. We have the ability through the Internet to connect, but instead this is used to draw us apart. I always need this space, to think, to understand and it is very much a coping mechanism.
As Rebecca Solnit states, A Field Guide to Getting Lost, “To lose yourself: a voluptuous surrender, lost in your arms, lost to the world, utterly immersed in what is present so that its surroundings fade away”. In Walter Benjamin’s terms, “to be lost is to be fully present, and to be fully present is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery.
And one does not get lost but loses oneself, with the implication that it is a conscious choice, a chosen surrender, a psychic state achievable through geography”.
Personally I feel a huge abyss between when I am out doing work, at one with nature, and when I’m in my technology-fuelled working world. I try to get lost within it. To wander. Again I refer to Rebecca Solnit’s works. “The Indians refer to it in English as ‘wandering’. They say of a certain man, ‘He is wandering,’ or ‘He has started to wander.’ It would seem that under certain conditions of mental stress an individual finds life in his accustomed surroundings too hard to bear. Such a man starts to wander […] and knows the desire for what Buddhists call un-being.” To get lost is to lose control, to lose control is to separate from this stream of society, only then can one begin to question it, only when one is truly marginalized and on the outside can one begin to look.
There is something very spiritual about my experience with the land, very personal. We are more and more detached from the natural landscape and how to navigate it without the means of technology. I feel that the landscape has been here so long, and we have been so little that it is vitally important not to undervalue it. Nature allows us to go beyond what we already know, which I feel is crucial in order to challenge ourselves and question what we believe.
Can you talk to me a bit about your processes - ie. medium format/large format? What are the merits of these?
My ideal camera to use is my medium format.
At the time I was studying, in my second year… I didn’t own a camera but borrowed the universities’. When I was home and going through family photos, I began to talk about cameras with my Grandad. He was a plasterer and part time fisherman but is now retired. We were speaking about what it would mean to own a camera. Skip forward six months, and he had “found” a medium format film camera I had mentioned. Grandad and Nana can’t even afford to heat their house and he knew I wouldn’t have accepted it otherwise. What this meant to me, and still means, is someone believed in me enough to do that. It’s someone I respect greatly saying you can do this. So that’s why I like to use the ‘Rolleiflex’.
Film wise, it’s slower. More lyrical. I listen a lot: a long-term, respectful process so film goes alongside that. I do like using large format but cost wise it’s not a format I can access. I like to build relationships. I have a strong respect for the people that come together and allow me to photograph them. I am a natural introvert, so it takes time to connect . . . Film helps this process.
There is a specific reason I wanted to share that story, because a basic, and something that isn’t an issue for many is their access to a camera. I mentor and do workshops with young people around Yorkshire, most of whom have no access to cameras, even within the places they study. They have to get to university to use their first camera, but they need to get a portfolio to gain access to education. I hope this begins to paint a picture of the few small ways in which it starts to become harder if you’re from a working class background.
Do you enjoy commercial assignments? Do they seep into your personal practice? Does your personal practice seep into your commercial assignments?
I’m not ashamed to say I really enjoy commercial assignments. They can be part of your practice. I worked with Sail Creative on a campaign for Newcastle Carers and the NHS. It was so inspiring. It was a socially engaged commercial campaign, where the young carers were involved. The aims were getting more young people to realise that the organisation was there to support them. It made sense to work solely in the North East, with young actors living in the North East from working class backgrounds. It went on to be a billboard campaign across the city of Newcastle. Most of the commercial work I do is just an extension of my practice. I feel lucky to get to do what I love.
On your website, you describe yourself as a storyteller. Who inspires you as a storyteller (writer, artist, photographer?)
Stories were very much a part of my upbringing. When you live in a small village or on a remote island, storytelling – gossiping - is part of the everyday. I get frustrated with photography’s lack of storytelling ability but at the same time I like it. It makes the viewer have to actively participate in interpreting the work.
The people who inspire me are:
Tarkovsky: the moments we don’t see, the way he makes you think, from his films to his Polaroids. The absence.
Alfredo Jaar tells incredibly difficult stories in complex ways. He is one of my favourite artists.
The list is varied but I am inspired by: Ron Jude, Neil Gunn, Kate Bush, Rebecca Solnit
Robert Macfarlane, W G Sebald, Adam Scovell and The Brontes. It’s mainly literature, film, every day stories from people within my community, the land, happenings.