2007 - 2021

When the Blackbird Sings

When the Blackbird Sings is an exhibition of photographs by Jannica Honey currently showing at the Arusha Gallery in Edinburgh which focuses on the female body and its links with nature.

There’s a phenomenon from the exhibition: the images are individually disconcerting and challenging but collectively inspiring and empowering.

It speaks directly to Bella’s themes of autonomy and self-determination and ‘finding power.’

The exhibition came after a process of failed IVF treatment and reflection on male power, MeToo and the toxic realm of Trumpism.

The photographs are all shot in twilight, as light fades. It’s a liminal moment that seems to have spoken to a far wider audience than a fine arts crowd or a feminist silo.

“You have 15 minutes, tops, or either there’s too much shadow or it’s too dark.” It seemed like a potent metaphor. “It’s not just the light disappearing, it’s the time ticking away like in life. It reminded me of every single time I’ve been ovulating and trying to make a baby, because that’s just a brief moment in the month as well. You only have two days.”

What started as a reverie on a moment slipping away has transformed into a movement of strength, solidarity and hope with multiple collaborations and events coming out of the project.

Comments (2)

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  1. Clare Galloway says:

    Just glorious <3

  2. SleepingDog says:

    Apparently intermediate (or phase shift) states like twilight featured in Celtic lore, such as the paradoxical death requirements of Lleu Llaw Gyffes, who could not be killed at day or night, clothed or naked, indoors or outdoors, and so forth:

    In a parallel with this article’s 15-minute window of opportunity, the technical preparation of the spear could only be worked on in rare hours. And he could only be killed at dusk (or presumably dawn).

    These works are reminiscent of nature photographs of shy forest animals, yet they retain clear human forms, so perhaps that is another halfway state, half-clad in leaves or water, outwith walls but under a treetop canopy, lit by the sun’s reflected light from the moon.

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