An in­ter­vi­ew with Wendy Bevan

Odalisque - - An Interview With Wendy Bevan Written By Michaela - Writ­ten by Mi­chae­la Myhrberg

As long as Oda­lis­que has been around, we have al­ways had a re­fe­rence to Bri­tish pho­to­grap­her Wendy Bevan. Her ima­ges are most com­mon­ly part of our moodboards and in the backs of our minds. The way she fu­ses art and fashion to cre­a­te a worm­ho­le to a lost world beyond ti­me and pla­ce is how we have known her. When my re­se­arch about Wendy Bevan the Pho­to­grap­her be­gan, I found out that she was much mo­re than just a pho­to­grap­her. Even though she has al­ways been a pho­to­grap­her and film­ma­ker, shoo­ting her own films at a young age and taking pictu­res as a me­ans of sketching frag­ments from a dream, she’s mo­re of a su­per-ar­tist, wor­king in se­ve­ral gen­res si­mul­ta­ne­ously. In ad­di­tion to her pho­to­grap­hic work, Bevan has been ma­king mu­si­cal col­la­bo­ra­tions as a sing­er and is about to re­le­a­se her first so­lo pro­ject In Ghosts We Trust, pro­du­ced by Marc Col­lin on Kwai­dan Re­cords la­ter this ye­ar.. Bevan al­so oc­ca­sio­nal­ly DJS, mix­ing tu­nes from got­hic avant gar­de, dark wa­ve, neo-clas­si­cal and post-punk gen­res. Furt­her­mo­re, she has an ongo­ing event fe­a­tu­red at film­ma­ker Da­vid Lynch’s night club Si­len­cio in Pa­ris, that will be re­ve­a­led la­ter in 2015. Bevan started her first band at an ear­ly age, alt­hough this first fo­ray on­ly las­ted a short whi­le it un­le­ashed her pas­sion for mu­sic. She started play­ing vi­o­lin, pi­a­no and taking singing les­sons when she was se­ven which gai­ned a full scho­lar­s­hip to mu­sic school. She has clear­ly been in con­tact with mu­sic for most for her li­fe, alt­hough she still con­si­ders her­self a be­gin­ner with much left to learn. MM: When I first got to know your work it was through pho­to­grap­hy. I then le­ar­ned that you are a mul­ti-ar­tist, wor­king with mu­sic, pho­to­grap­hy and ac­ting. Which area is your cur­rent focus?

WB: I am de­ve­lo­ping my new mu­sic pro­ject at the mo­ment with a pro­du­cer in Pa­ris. The pro­ject will be re­le­a­sed la­ter this ye­ar, alongside a se­ri­es of new film col­la­bo­ra­tions that I’m de­ve­lo­ping over ti­me.

MM: You’re qui­te a mas­ter of col­la­bo­ra­tions.

WB: I’ve had ma­ny and have a few mo­re good ones li­ned up. No spoi­lers though. I ty­pi­cal­ly work with pe­op­le I al­re­a­dy know. My team be­comes an ex­ten­ded fa­mily – loyal­ty is so­met­hing to va­lue. At the sa­me ti­me, I lo­ve wor­king with new ar­tists. They add a new co­lour that one per­haps hasn’t seen be­fo­re.

MM: What did your so­lo ex­hi­bi­tion Slow Light in­clu­de, and how was it re­cei­ved?

WB: Slow Light was a pie­ce of pho­to­grap­hic and sound sculp­tu­re, created by map­ping ima­ges, pro­jec­ted in­to an in­fla­ted pa­rachu­te in a blac­ked-out room. I le­ar­ned a lot about ae­ro­dy­na­mics du­ring this pe­ri­od. Pe­op­le ca­me to see the show and they left

bewil­de­red, with no ques­tions an­swered and on­ly the desi­re to ask mo­re.

MM: How do you in­ter­pret vi­su­al in­spi­ra­tion in your mu­sic, as in Saints Don’t Sleep, when you mix­ed myt­ho­lo­gy and black ma­gic?

WB: With my in­stin­ct and super­na­tu­ral for­ces. Com­po­sing the mu­sic opened a por­tal to furt­her ex­plo­ra­tions in the area. A vi­sit to Tu­rin beca­me a well­spring of ide­as af­fec­ted by the Sa­ta­nic myt­ho­lo­gy of the ci­ty, which in turn le­ad to the de­ve­lop­ment of the showca­se.

MM: What was the main sour­ce of in­spi­ra­tion for your vi­su­al work? WB: The world in-between.

MM: Have you ever got­ten any ne­ga­ti­ve re­spon­ses from be­ing in­vol­ved in so ma­ny dif­fe­rent art forms? I me­an, most pe­op­le li­ke to put ot­hers in ca­te­go­ri­es – do they ever get con­fu­sed becau­se you do so ma­ny dif­fe­rent things?

WB: It’s a sha­me for the pe­op­le who get con­fu­sed. But I don’t li­ke be­ing put in any ca­te­go­ry. Ne­ga­ti­vi­ty comes from in­secu­ri­ty, per­haps the unk­nown ma­kes pe­op­le fe­el a litt­le on ed­ge. But that’s okay too.. it’s so­me­ti­mes good to fe­el a litt­le on-ed­ge.

MM: You li­ve in Lon­don, though you se­em to tra­vel fre­quent­ly to Pa­ris and Mi­lan. How is the cli­ma­te in Lon­don for fe­ma­le ar­tists? I know it’s of­ten har­der for a wo­man to be ac­cep­ted and ap­pre­ci­a­ted in the in­du­stry.

WB: It can be a good or bad ci­ty, even if you are ma­le or fe­ma­le. That cru­el mistress of a ci­ty do­esn’t ca­re about gen­der. I’ve li­ved in Lon­don for too long to have any sen­sib­le per­specti­ve, but so­met­hing keeps me the­re – and I’m not bo­red yet but I want to leave soon. I’m at my hap­pi­est when I know I have a tic­ket booked to get out of town.

MM: It’s Fri­day the 13th. How are you spen­ding your day?

WB: I’m su­per­sti­tious, so I’m spen­ding the day with my black cat.

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