Jennifer Cox: I Wish I Knew How it Would Feel to be Free

A solo show of the Spanish Artist's photographs at the Malt Cross

There seems to be an inherent human recognition of the romantic ideal, of the body at one with nature and escaping the city limits.  The individuals reaction might not sit perfectly with the theoretical debate and accepted discourse that has formed over the years, however it is evident that as we live in a city-centric time where concern for the environmental future (although the causes of environmental deterioration might be hotly debated and disagreed upon, it is generally accepted that our push for a technological future is the culprit) has led to a new Utopian view of man co-habiting with nature in a mutually beneficial way.  It would seem that historically man has had to conquer and control nature in order to rule and thrive, but there has always been a sense that mankind should instead become comfortable in nature’s bosom and survive in partnership.  ‘I wish I knew how it would feel to be free’.

Cox goes for walks.  This image of an artist wandering through fields and meadows, over streams and through woods builds a romantic sense that she is reliant on an experience in order to create a memory.  She talks of memories on her website as being ‘innacurate, vague and futile’, creating a desire to capture moments in order to preserve that memory.  Her photographs are often taken in the locations she stumbles upon, fields, woods and streams all feature with a juxtaposition of objects to create narratives around these ideas of wandering; sometimes clothed, sometimes naked and sometimes in-between we see the female form absorbed into the natural landscape.

I would like to state at this juncture that I like the work, in fact I love the ideas seen in the work, however there are problematic elements within this show, more towards the curation and presentation which, I think, begin to take away from the potential power held within the compositional nature of each photograph.  It’s not so much that the work is quite stylised (they have a definitive air of centre spreads in fashion magazines), but that there is a potential atmosphere and intimacy to be had which just doesn’t quite come across.

There are candles in the corners of the rooms and small vases of flowers with a dreamy subconscious soundtrack playing (from a black stereo with a skull sticker on top).  The gallery is phenomenally light (normally an asset, of course) and it is a bright spring evening, so much so that the effect of the music and candles is negated to the point of potential distraction.  I wonder whether a darkened room with well spotlit works would have created a far more intimate atmosphere where the viewer is drawn into a conversation with the work rather than just observing it in what becomes a rather voyeuristic activity.

I mention this because the photographs are placed in groups, some large and some small, all relating to each other as if to suggest each small collection makes one piece rather than a series of works.  It feels personal, especially considering the handwritten notes of lyrics, poetry or reminiscence placed with each group of photographs, leaving me feeling as if Cox is asking me to step inside what is a rather personal process of collating and disseminating memories of places and time.  A look at her website demonstrates how often these written engines are used to enlighten the viewer of the thought behind the work, but I wonder if they are necessary or if they are actually an integral part of each work.  This leaves me with a conundrum of whether to consider Silvia Plath’s words or some Mumford and Son’s lyrics within the work or as an accompaniment.

The show’s title is painted on the wall as you enter with the rest of the chorus from the Nina Simone song underneath it.  ‘I wish I could break all the chains holding me…say all the things that I should say”.  It was an anthem during the civil rights movement in America as well as an Olympic theme suggesting a more powerful idea that might bring people together collectively to seem a freedom beyond boundaries imposed by others, culture or by physical possibilities.  The song goes on to say ‘I wish you could know what it means to be me’, turning the viewer’s voyeuristic position into one that is being persuaded to step into the photograph and try, in some way, to experience it for themselves.  This is, of course, not the simplest of transitions and one that might require a stimulation of the viewer’s own longing for freedom. 

Kant may have insisted that beauty should be freely consensual, but it is true to say that there are particular aesthetics which are consistently considered beautiful, perhaps because of some primal human relationship with the natural.  Fields, trees and rivers (as well as the sun, sea and birds in flight) are classic examples of imagery that will stir something in a viewer that relates to beauty and to that utopian view where we are all free to be ourselves and enjoy what we find.  Of course this ideal is not possible without effective policing of boundaries imposed so that one persons over-enjoyment might not impede another’s, and as we well know the Communist ideal of shared prosperity is not something which is easily implemented, yet in some way we all desire this ability to co-exist in harmony whilst satisfying our own need for freedom and a beautiful view.  If Cox’s imagery has stirred this in any viewer, and if this is Cox’s desire, then perhaps she has managed to communicate that little bit of her, that little bit of her that is in all of us.