Time to consolidate on the history of cyanotypes

Back in September, I found out that Cyanotype artist Anna Atkins was married to John Pelly Atkins, the son of Alderman John Atkins - a West India merchant and slave owner of several plantations in Jamaica.  Atkin’s family received compensation (at the expense of UK taxpayers a debt that was only paid off in 2015 along with other former slave owners) when slavery was legally abolished.

To clarify Atkin’s family received compensation (some of claims made by Atkins family were successful and unsuccessful but this expense alongside other former slave traders was paid at the expense of UK taxpayers, a debt that was only paid off in 2015.) when Slavery Abolition Act was passed in 1833 but came into force 1834. The 1807 Slave Trade Act had legally abolished and prohibited slavery in British Empire, the 1833 Slavery Abolition Act was an expansion on 1807 act and had made it illegal to purchase and own enslaved people. In 1838, the enslaved Black people of Jamaica were emancipated.

This meant that Atkins had access to landscape and plant life in Jamaica, and she was able to document the ecosystems of Jamaica as part of her practice. From reading about Anna Atkins and her work, this fact is never mentioned. Almost glossed over, but an important part of her practice and research that we all needed to think about and reflect upon more. It’s almost as if this has been conveniently left out so as not to besmirch the reputation and legacy of Atkins.

Cyanotypes are an easy and accessible form of cameraless photography, used in schools and across homes and darkrooms across the world, this form of photography allows us to engage with photography and nature at the same time. Cyanotypes also focus on the chemistry of photography whilst creating a romantic and painterly interruption of what’s around us.

However, photography cannot escape the implications of slavery/colonialism within its history. As a technique that came into fruition in the 19th century, it really should not be surprising but actually, it should be expected and we should not be shocked to read and learn about this. Every facet of the UK has been liked to slavery and colonialism and it should be expected. In fact, I would be surprised if other historical photography techniques did not have a similar legacy.

Although I was initially shocked (and embarrassed) that I didn’t know actually thought about destroying these cyanotypes which on reflection would not have changed anything and only added to the horror and rage that I felt about learning this information.

Atkin’s studies of ferns - with 25 of the studies coming from Jamaica show that she was able to benefit from having access to Jamaica’s botanical landscape, the wealth that her husband acquired from slavery meant that Atkin was able to invest and spend time on her practice - creating an archive of work which is still reflected and exhibited widely. I find it strange and awkward that I can learn directly about the botanical history of Jamaica not from Black or Indigenous person but from white middle-class English women. My understanding comes from her gaze and from her archival studies - how strange and jarring processing this information has been for me over the past few months.

Writing this I am taken back to Jamaica Kincaid and her writings about the legacy of slavery and colonialism in Antigua.

After reflecting on this information a bit more I think the history of cyanotypes and Atkin’s deserves to be spoken about more often and with more rigor - how can we find a way of utilising this information to contextualise Atkin and cyanotype technique? I have not made any cyanotypes since I found out about this information.

From now on, I intend to engage with cyanotype with more intention and understanding of its history and the implications it has on my practice. The Artist Tom Pope has done a lot of research into Atkin’s and her cyanotypes practice - very illuminating and provides a lot of contexts.


Cyanotype of flowers that were gifted to me, August 2021, ©Marie Smith

Interview with Myah Jeffers - community, healing and connecting with body and ancestry

The conversations I have been having with myself and now with other artists have been illuminating, forcing me to change my biases and the binaries that have framed my understanding of nature and my perception of what is nature.

Questions around belonging and community have been a preoccupation of mine and wanting to seek other artists that have similar concerns and cross-overs in their practice have made me feel more connected. Last week I had the pleasure of speaking to photographer and director Myah Jeffers.

Myah is Barbadian-British, London-based documentary, dramaturg, and portrait photographer. Myah' primarily documents the experiences of Queer and intergenerational, Black and diaspora communities. All of Myah’s work is made on analogue film - medium format.

I had been following Myah’s work for a while and I felt a kinship with her work not only as an analogue photographer but as an artist whose work focuses on mental health, community, nature, and healing. So, I was super glad to spend an hour talking to her and sharing mutual reading materials and experiences.

Self portrait made in Dungeness - Kent,  juxtaposed with a tree in Bodiam - East Sussex, August 2021, ©Marie Smith

Self portrait made in Dungeness - Kent, juxtaposed with a tree in Bodiam - East Sussex, August 2021, ©Marie Smith


With every interview I start off by asking the same two questions, to introduce themselves and to talk about their relationship and research about nature/ecology and environmentalism. The first question might sound silly, but by having the artist introduce themselves in their own words then perhaps they can illuminate themselves further.

With the second question, I already am aware that they have a relationship with nature from researching their work but again, for me, it’s about finding out the nuances and preoccupation with that artist that set the tone for the interview. I also answer these two questions which provides them (in this case Myah) with a further understanding of who I am and what I am seeking to ascertain from our conversation.

Myah’s relationship to nature is a space that can she connect to her body and her ancestry and to have a deeper understanding of community. Nature is a place of healing and is a place with herself but this relationship is constantly evolving. Myah moved to the UK from Barbados when she was 16 years old and this dual experience of the UK and Barbados has shaped her perception. Myah’s practice and research are rooted in reading and she mentioned two books by bell hooks - all about love and sisters of the yam which have provided her with solace and also enabled her to re-position herself with the landscape and also with her own process of healing.

We talked a lot about healing and trying to connect with the physical land, and how the Black diaspora lost their connection to agriculture which has led to the mind-body split due to a loss of engagement with nature and agricultural practices, this is exacerbated by diaspora communities living and working in cities.

Last summer was very emotional for many and in particular regarding the inaction and ambivalence from institutions regarding the BLM movement, not to mention the pandemic - this past year has been very draining and a struggle to reconcile. Myah mentioned lying down in Hackney Marshes soaking up the air and forging a spiritual connection with the earth. These experiences provided her with a prompt that evolved into the series There is No healing in Silence. This piece was made in Epping Forest and provided an opportunity to forge intergenerational discourse, the feeling of touch, and spiritual connection.

This is something I should try to engage with more, the land and the elements of the ecology of where I am. What is my spiritual connection to the land? How can I forge that connection rather than forcing it? Do I need to be taking photographs at every opportunity, probably not if I am honest?

Recently, I’ve developed a habit of carrying my camera with me everywhere, always looking to find an opportunity to document what I am seeing as though this will be enough to know how I feel about a place. I have lost the habit of walking, sitting, and being in the present moment with myself and where I am. I feel this is partly to do with a disconnection I feel with London at the moment and also because I have made more concerted efforts to explore other places outside of London.

Nevertheless, this act of sitting and being at one with the land reminded me that having this experience is just as important as making photographs. The discourse around ecology and climate change is not limited. A valid point that Myah made was that perhaps Black and diaspora communities do not think or use the same language as those in mainstream media in Western society but the concerns and considerations still exist.

Barbados is known as ‘Little England’ and the legacy of colonialism permeates the landscape. Myah reflected on how tourism and capitalism are shaping and fragmenting the natural landscape of the island. The beauty that remains is becoming commodified with places such as Harrison’s Cave. This cave is primarily populated by American and British tourists. The invisible and visible distinctions within the landscape play a part in the segregation of the communities. Myah mentioned tapping into memories of Barbados when she feels the need to retrieve a place that is comforting for her.

Agency, is a word that is instrumental in both my and Myah’s practice and is something that is always at the forefront of the work that we make. We spoke about what this means to us and our practice and how photography has created a space for us to find an agency. For Myah, the agency is a way for her to ensure that she can contribute to collective healing and to the community of resistance. Thus, allowing Black and diaspora communities to have the autonomy to be safe with themselves, with each other, and with the land.


Self portrait made in Dungeness - Kent,  juxtaposed with a tree in Bodiam - East Sussex, August 2021, ©Marie Smith

Self portrait made in Dungeness - Kent, juxtaposed with a tree in Bodiam - East Sussex, August 2021, ©Marie Smith


Myah also reflected on her experience with her commission from where I am standing with the Empathy Museum and working with front line NHS workers - how a camera is a tool and the most important part of the process is the connection you have with the people. To create an authentic connection is to rescind some control in order that the people you are documenting are at the center of the process. So trust, which comes with constant dialogue with the participants is we talked about trust and how this can impact the final portrait if the trust is not there.

Community is at the heart of her practice, and Myah has definition of a community is based on bell hook’s definition; Community is a space where Black people can exist without fear, paranoia, or oppression. An imperative part of Myah’s work is to document Black communities and how conversations, through talking and through photography can aid the healing process. By seeing ourselves, in spaces, we are able to connect on a spiritual level. Myah is also seeking to contribute to the archive and the experience of Black Diaspora communities. In particular intergenerational dynamics and conversations can prompt further conversations within themselves.

Myah also talked about her gaze and how this is affected by commercial and personal work, and how it has shifted. She is aware of the implication this has on her practice, in particular when she goes back to make work in Barbados. Having lived in the UK now for several years and having access to film cameras, in particular medium format cameras, Myah is having to navigate the implications this has on her practice.

Mental health and wellbeing are at the forefront of my practice and I instantly felt this connection with Myah’s work so I felt that it was important for me to discuss this topic with her. I asked Myah about her research and how as Black people we are holding trauma and how we can find the tools to release the trauma that has manifested in their bodies.

Myah’s main research was bell hook’s sister of the yam, Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved and conversations with other Black women. This included having conversations and doing workshops in Epping Forest which became part of the process for the project There is No healing in Silence.

Also, it was great to know that I was not the only person that found fiction a relevant and important part of the research. Personally, fiction in particular writers from Black and diaspora communities holds an element of historical truth that is just as important and informed as academic writing. For Myah, fiction creates an important moment for Black and diaspora communities to contextualise their experience, this is informed by how we are treated in society. Fiction by Black writers centers our being and existence and fiction can create moments that she can reference and respond to, words are portraits.

As an analogue photographer, I was interested in Myah’s perspective on the process of working solely with film and how the has impacted her gaze and the type of work that she makes - personally and commercially. Myah made the switch to making work in analogue a year ago after she found herself uninspired by the digital process as it not allowing her to slow down her process.

The process with medium format film is more intentional but she is making the move to 35mm and it will be interesting to see how having a smaller camera will impact her practice. Medium format photography provides Myah with space and time to really interrogate her intentions, to look closely, and to ensure that she is capturing the nuances of her sitter. By utilising traditional portraiture photography as part of her practice, Myah is subverting the historical narrative about how Black people have been documented.

It was also lovely to end the conversation sharing the names of some of the artist artists/filmmakers and photographers that we both like, such as Adama Jolloh, Gordon Parks, Roy DeCarava, Khalik Allah, Kahlil Joseph, and Zanele Muholi was amongst the many that Myah referenced. 


Self portrait collage, Black and white, August 2021,  ©Marie Smith

Self portrait collage, Black and white, August 2021, ©Marie Smith


My conversation with Myah was very illuminating, the process of speaking to different artists has pushed to think about what I am doing with my research and what I am learning. I felt a string kinship with so much of what she said and she has reminded me that I need to take some more time, healing and dealing with trauma.

I thought I had processed this, but my recent social anxiety and living in London have triggered some underlying concerns that I felt that I had resolved. I also think that I need to spend more time, funny enough away from my camera and more time with looking and allowing myself to have a direct engagement with the land. So the next walk I go on I won’t bring my camera. I need to sit with my thoughts and feeling and notice what is resonating with me.

At the end of the research I hope to engage with Black and diaspora community to create a piece of work but I feel that before I can do that I have more work to do on myself and my understanding of nature and my relation ship with the land. I need to look more and make concerted efforts to be more honest with myself.

I need to heal.

I’m aware that I carry a lot of tension and I thought the act of photography would be a relief and to extend it does but it’s not the best way of dealing with every situation. I’m sure as I go back and listen to my conversation with Myah that there will be more for me to engage and reflect upon.


Self portrait collage, Colour, August 2021,  ©Marie Smith

Self portrait collage, Colour, August 2021, ©Marie Smith

My imaginary garden

A few months ago I noticed this independent succulent had started growing separately from the main succulent plant that I had. I had somehow managed to cultivate itself with very little attention paid to it.

After my surprise (and delight) I managed to root the plant in water and planted it again in succulent soil and left it to grow. It is flushing, and I am happy to see that I was able to provide support and nourishment. I have many indoor plants, as a substitute for a lack of garden and also for a lack of knowledge of how to look after a garden. Reading Jamaica Kincaid has taught me how laborious, expire, and all-consuming it is. One day I would like to have a garden but for now, I have my plants.


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I have also been thinking about how I can create a link from my previous series into this research, is there a way I can link the two and also reflect on my awareness of environmentalism and nature - establishing what it means to me will hopefully create a context and conversation when I speak to others.

So during an exhibition at Dulwich Picture gallery, I spotted these Sensitive plant seeds and decided to grow my own Sensitive plant (botanical name: Mimosa podica). The seeds were soaked overnight and planted the next day, with lots of light and water, within a week I saw little shoots poking through the soil, quickly and the plant has continued its rapid growth (see examples below, three weeks growth).

Sensitive to the touch, any contact with something other than another branch of the plant such as the touch of a finger causes the plant to retreat and close up as a form of defense. Hence the name Sensitive plant. I try not to do this as I think it must be tormenting for them but I have touched it a few times and it’s fascinating to see how receptive the plant is - it will be a challenge re-potting the plant!

I am excited to see what potential this plant can provide - whether that be a metaphor or become a physical aspect of the work - cyanotypes or straightforward documentary photos of its growth. the plant provides a way to think about my relationship with nature, mental health, and environmentalism.

If I can go on and sustain this plant then perhaps this can become a way to connect with others - as this plant can be rooted again so I can share its abundance with others. So excited to see where I am heading with this research, it feels overwhelming at times but having the potential to explore new ways of working in my practice is really inspiring me.


Sensitive Plant seeds soaking in water for 24 hours before planting

Sensitive Plant seeds soaking in water for 24 hours before planting


I rooted the plant on several different pots, the pack included 300 seeds, most of them have not grown but I am pleased with what is growing so far.

I rooted the plant on several different pots, the pack included 300 seeds, most of them have not grown but I am pleased with what is growing so far.



I will re-pot them once they have grown out of their existing pot. The plants are being grown in Peet free soil. I also collect water from left over glasses of water so that I am not wasting water and trying to be sustainable.

I will re-pot them once they have grown out of their existing pot. The plants are being grown in Peet free soil. I also collect water from left over glasses of water so that I am not wasting water and trying to be sustainable.