A13=Siân Davey
A19=Jennifer Higgie
Age Group_Uncategorized
Age Group_Uncategorized
automatic-update
Category1=Non-Fiction
Category=AJB
Category=AJCD
COP=United Kingdom
Delivery_Pre-order
eq_art-fashion-photography
eq_bestseller
eq_isMigrated=2
eq_nobargain
eq_non-fiction
Language_English
PA=Temporarily unavailable
Price_€50 to €100
PS=Active
softlaunch
Product details
- ISBN 9781907112713
- Weight: 1320g
- Dimensions: 260 x 340mm
- Publication Date: 05 Apr 2024
- Publisher: Trolley Books
- Publication City/Country: GB
- Product Form: Hardback
- Language: English
Secure
checkout
Fast Shipping
Easy returns
Beautiful and human portraits taken in renowned British photographer Sian Davey's garden. Starting from a neglected back yard, with her son she built a garden so beautiful that over the course of three years hundreds of people flocked from near and far to be photographed by her surrounded by the flowers, revealing to her the love of humanity and nature.
“Why don’t we fill our back garden with wildflowers and bees, and the people we meet over the garden wall – we’ll invite them in to be photographed by you.” This is what my son Luke announced in the kitchen, midwinter, our back garden abandoned for at least ten years. I was sitting at the kitchen table, navigating a family deep in crisis.
What came next was a pilgrimage: an ongoing act to cultivate a space grounded in love, a reverential offering to humanity. This is what became The Garden. In a short window of time, we worked intensively to clear our longneglected garden. During the process, we intensively researched native flowers, soil and biodiversity. We sourced organic local seeds and sowed under the moon cycles, biodynamically.
We offered prayers along the way. We invited the pollinators and nature spirits. Luke and I obsessively shared our dreams, our insights and visions. We called in our ancestors to support and strengthen our vision. We collected stories from the people we met over the garden wall whilst we worked, which soon came to feel like an intimate, confessional space.
We then watched the flowers emerge, silently appearing from every corner of the garden. Mullein, meadowsweet, wild carrot, giant sunflowers and thousands of poppies and cornflowers. We built structures for climbing gourds, tromboncinos, and sweet peas to clamber over.
And as the flowers opened, they called in the community; the mothers and daughters, grandparents, the lonely, the marginalised, teenagers, new lovers, the heartbroken and those that had concealed a lifetime of shame. They became enfolded into the story of the garden, creating and partaking in the story equally.
As the garden evolved it became an expression of joy, interconnectedness, yearning, sexuality, and defiance. The garden became a metaphor for the human heart itself.
Those who entered the garden reflected back to me my history and who I had become.
Everyone has a place in our garden. I am the garden. Those who enter are the garden. Without distinction, without separation.
“Why don’t we fill our back garden with wildflowers and bees, and the people we meet over the garden wall – we’ll invite them in to be photographed by you.” This is what my son Luke announced in the kitchen, midwinter, our back garden abandoned for at least ten years. I was sitting at the kitchen table, navigating a family deep in crisis.
What came next was a pilgrimage: an ongoing act to cultivate a space grounded in love, a reverential offering to humanity. This is what became The Garden. In a short window of time, we worked intensively to clear our longneglected garden. During the process, we intensively researched native flowers, soil and biodiversity. We sourced organic local seeds and sowed under the moon cycles, biodynamically.
We offered prayers along the way. We invited the pollinators and nature spirits. Luke and I obsessively shared our dreams, our insights and visions. We called in our ancestors to support and strengthen our vision. We collected stories from the people we met over the garden wall whilst we worked, which soon came to feel like an intimate, confessional space.
We then watched the flowers emerge, silently appearing from every corner of the garden. Mullein, meadowsweet, wild carrot, giant sunflowers and thousands of poppies and cornflowers. We built structures for climbing gourds, tromboncinos, and sweet peas to clamber over.
And as the flowers opened, they called in the community; the mothers and daughters, grandparents, the lonely, the marginalised, teenagers, new lovers, the heartbroken and those that had concealed a lifetime of shame. They became enfolded into the story of the garden, creating and partaking in the story equally.
As the garden evolved it became an expression of joy, interconnectedness, yearning, sexuality, and defiance. The garden became a metaphor for the human heart itself.
Those who entered the garden reflected back to me my history and who I had become.
Everyone has a place in our garden. I am the garden. Those who enter are the garden. Without distinction, without separation.
Following a 15 year career as a psychotherapist in private practice, British photographer Sian Davey launched a career in photography in 2014, drawing on her experiences as a psychotherapist and mother to inform her practice. Her work is an investigation of the psychological landscapes of both herself and those around her. Her family and community are central to her work. Davey studied Fine Art painting (Bath Academy of Fine Art, 1985) and Social Policy (University of Brighton, 1990) Humanistic Psychotherapy (1995) and more recently, photography (MA 2014 and MFA 2016 at Plymouth University).
