I have been working with this population of wood ants since 2014, (a little at a time, via mini residencies) but this period of film training funded by the A-N bursary allowed me to work alongside and learn from professional film makers for the first time.
My practice emerges from painting, but has diversified enormously in response to the various species and contexts with whom I now work. This means that I am continually re-entering a space of not knowing (how to do it). Luckily, I find this space full of possibility.
Working with others allowed me to achieve footage and realise ideas that would have been impossible alone. I learned loads about how to use the equipment, and I also learned that there are times to ask the pros to do it for you (see last post flying the drone down through the trees).
It was fascinating to me that although my colleagues could do incredible things that I couldn’t, and got much better shots technically than me, they didn’t see/find/film the same mystical strangeness or social-geographical resonance in the space that I do… perhaps because I am in tune with the spruce copse and the ants in a way they are not? Perhaps simply because everyone’s ‘eye’ is different, and it is this that ‘makes’ an artist’s work, over and above expertise.
The stills in this post are from video I took on the days I had alone, once everyone else had left. I had a couple of amazing days, where the forest offered up so much richness. My focus spilled out from the ants towards the sunlight itself – in response to the solar ritual I had performed – and me and my cameras were syncing with light effects that had previously gone unremarked. One shot that I haven’t shared here because it doesn’t work as a still had me gasping in amazement, yet it just appeared like a gift: a golden, out of focus sunspot fills the whole frame. Uncertain vertical movement gradually becomes understandable as ants running up and down a tree, framed against the light. It is an image I will never forget. I hope that I get to share it.
