Capturing the essence and energy of a subject
ROBERT Hamblin’s latest series of photographic work, Threshold, explores both the fluidity of masculinities and the confines of what it means to be “a man”.
His blurry, almost painterly images of men – who are either underwear-clad or buck-naked – capture them in the jarring act of jumping, effectively “freezing” them in mid-air. This brief escape from gravity is sublime. Within a flit of a shutter, these men are no longer trapped by social and gendered constructs: for a paused millisecond, we see their souls.
Dreams to Reality is the first exhibition in the Erdmann Contemporary’s new gallery space, now located in Gardens. This group show highlights a number of wellknown photographers; Hamblin features alongside the likes of Niklas Zimmer, Tanisha Bhana, and Linda Tuloup. As the theme suggests, the exhibition not only deals with the binaries of the subconscious/conscious; the permanent/fleeting; and reality/imagination, but also highlights the liminal spaces between them.
Hamblin’s work, which mostly deals with notions of maleness, is positioned perfectly within this mystical, undefined space. Where previously Hamblin has explored impersonal social constructs in a wider sense, now he charters more intimate artistic territories – spaces that form part of his very being. Through these images of men jumping, Hamblin’s ultimate goal is to use movement to capture a humanness that is neither male nor female.
“I started off with just having an interaction with men,” explains Hamblin. “It’s all about movement, about interviewing them and having intimate conversations with them before I start shooting, and for them to inform the process.”
Using kaolin clay to cover their bodies and faces as a type of protec- tive “shield”, Hamblin’s subjects effectively “perform” for him through their own self-devised movements. The jumping aspect happened organically during these performances. “Jumping seemed to be a part of everybody’s repertoire of movement,” he adds.
Hamblin’s work is strongly influenced by one of his mentors, abstract painter Nel Erasmus. According to him, Erasmus’ art centres on “distillation” by capturing the essence and energy of a subject, as opposed to its realism and solidity.
And his Threshold images do just that. In one of his images, entitled Dissident Walker, a man is in mid-air, his feet fixedly floating above the ground. There are no details: somehow we know it is the body of a man, but his face, limbs and genitals are blurred thanks to the jump. In this state of gravitational limbo and flux, he seems open and vulnerable. But depicting vulnerability wasn’t Hamblin’s original intention – it was more of a beautiful accident.
“I didn’t start seeing it until people mentioned it, but a lot of people have said that everybody looks vulnerable. That’s interesting because (the subjects) will say to you that it required a massive amount of energy and (they had to use) their power, because jumping is a very powerful thing; it gets your heart racing. It starts becoming violent and they enjoyed that. (It’s) the incredible irony of the images.
“Yet, when they’re in mid-flight they seem vulnerable and exposed. I like how the images are layered that way.”
Hamblin has, what he terms, a “compassionate” understanding of male violence; how a man’s potential for violence causes selfloathing, and how it often underpins a man’s very existence. “What I can say, based on my own experience, is that men are incredibly violent with one another. We often juxtapose privileged male violence
My coming into maleness at a late stage in life probably brought compassion to me that I didn’t have before. It’s a compassion men don’t have for themselves, or one another
with women and queerness … We use those polarities. But we need to look at the stats: the truth is that (heterosexual) men kill more men than anyone else.” According to Hamblin, this “innate” violence is partly due to society’s constructs and expectations – not only due to a man’s biology.
Hamblin’s work also has a unique perspective on the fluidity, and complexity, of masculinities. That’s because he used to be female.
“My coming into maleness at a late stage in life probably brought compassion to me that I didn’t have before. It’s a compassion that men don’t have for themselves, or one another (…) when a man is alone, on his own, confronted with the way society sees him; he most often does not have compassion for his struggles. I think I can probably land at that point of compassion because I understand … I came into my body late into my life. I understand the biological violence of masculinity.”
However, despite changing from female to male seven years ago, he does not see himself as transgender.
“I don’t identify as a transgendered person; it’s an interesting aspect of my past. What weighs more heavily with people is my journalistic past, which gives me an ability to interview people, my experience in theatre which allows me to see people’s lives as narratives and to encourage people to do performances, and also my experience in the NGO world, which allows me to be respectful of people’s experiences and stories to be told from their own perspective, and to let them have agency. This for me is very important in my work.”
According to Hamblin, the intimacy of connection to his male subjects is paramount; when they are photographed by him, it is “confes- sional” in nature, and only once they feel safe enough to be in a space of trust and collaboration, are no holds barred. His subjects have complete agency over the images, and if someone is uncomfortable with any aspect of the finished artwork, it will never be published.
Hamblin’s work, along with enabling close male bonding, also depicts something more ethereal: it captures a space that lies between the performance and the jumping – in this space is the true self, the soul. “I see art as the spiritual,” he says. “I’m an atheist but I do believe in a concept of ‘spiritual-ness’ – not spirituality. And the spirit of people is just something we experience.”
It is this “spirit” and distilled essence of humanness that Hamblin is able to so expertly and gently capture in his images. And it’s impossible to not have a spiritual experience while looking at them.
Dreams to Reality runs at the Erdmann Contemporary, 84 Kloof Street, Gardens, until August 29. Call 021 422 2762.