Through My Lockdown Lens: 11 Leading Photographers Capture Confinement
1. Through my lockdown lens: 11 leading photographers
capture their conļ¬nement
Killian Fox, Tim Lewis and Lisa O'Kelly
Acclaimed photographers from around the world share a single image reļ¬ecting on their experience of the
coronavirus outbreak
Sun 10 May 2020 07.00Ā BST
Alec Soth
Minneapolis, Minnesota
2. A leading chronicler of contemporary American life, Magnum photographer Alec Soth is renowned for his
images of disconnected communities in the US. Born and based in Minneapolis, he has published more than 25
books and received a Gu enheim fellowship in 2013
Last year, I began a correspondence with a man who has been in prison since 2003. His letters have taken on
new meaning in the wake of the pandemic and the āstay at homeā orders. While I would never compare
these constraints to incarceration, his words are nonetheless helpful. āIt all boils down to limits,ā he
recently wrote. āWhether enforced by nature ā biologic or social, tangible or abstractions ā we all confront
the parameters of our cage eventually. What we do when we reach those bars helps deļ¬ne us.ā
As a photographer Iām really struggling to respond to the pandemic, because Iām not a crisis-response type
photographer. Iāve done little photographic experiments, and theyāve been OK. But by far the most
meaningful thing thatās happened to me is this letter exchange. In terms of the image itself, I just took a
picture of the letter with my iPhone, using the screen on my bedroom window to make the writing illegible,
though a few words pop out here and there. I really do ļ¬nd it interesting to reļ¬ect on the constraints of
prison, which are a million times worse than what Iām going through, and all the psychological weight of
incarceration that you canāt even imagine.
I feel like Iām rattling my cage at the moment, but itās so not a cage. Iām in a city but itās very spread out. I
have a studio, which I have no problem getting to. Iām biking a lot ā thank God itās spring because Minnesota
is the coldest part of the US and winters here are brutal. Itās a distressing time, but really my life is not so
very diļ¬erent at all. KF
Vanessa Winship
Folkestone, Kent
Photograph: Alec Soth/Magnum Photos
3. Lincolnshire-born Vanessa Winship explores concepts of borders, identity and memory in her work, which was
the subject of a major exhibition at the Barbican in 2018
Before lockdown a friend sent me a link to a recipe for making vegan honey. All you need is fresh dandelion
ļ¬owers, sugar, a lemon and water. She suggested that perhaps it was something I could do with my
granddaughter, Bella, because she knows we like making things together and doing things outside. Bella is
six. In normal times we see each other quite a lot but because weāre trying to obey the lockdown rules I
havenāt seen her for many weeks.
Dandelions started to appear opposite my house and along the path where I take my daily walk, so even
though I knew I wasnāt going to be making the honey with her, I picked them and Iām planning to follow the
recipe. Iām not vegan and neither is she but that is irrelevant, really ā I just know it is something she would
have loved to do.
It was a coincidence that the cloth on our kitchen table the day I gathered the dandelions happened to have
a pattern on it that looks like a beehive. But coincidence is a fantastic thing and I like it when it comes into
my work.
Iāve been talking to Bella on Zoom and WhatsApp and because she is a child of the digital age she is very
comfortable with that but I canāt go outside with her and pick dandelions so the act of doing that by myself
felt like a lovely link with her. Whatās really nice as well is that dandelions represent the sun and, in fact,
yellow is her favourite colour. I also like the idea that after dandelions are dandelions they become clocks
that we blow as a game, counting down the days to the end of our conļ¬nement. LOāK
Nadav Kander
London
Dandelion honey. Photograph: Vanessa Winship