Photo London Highlights: Sarabande and the Alchemy of the Image

‘The commercial world is different. When you work with galleries, everyone has their own little interests, but when you work with foundations, your advancement is their interest, and that creates a different dynamic.’ Almudena Romero, plant photographer and 19th century photography expert tells me, as we recount her savoured time at the notable Sarabande Foundation between 2023 and 2024. We caught up ahead of Photo London, where the House of Bandits - Sarabande’s concept store which houses and sells its artists work - is exhibiting for the first time this year under the fair’s Discovery section. Romero’s work is included in this segment alongside a slew of other alumni, including wet plate collodion aficionado and photographer Kasia Wozniak.

Founded in 2006 by Lee Alexander McQueen and named after the designer's S/S 07 collection, Sarabande isn't just a foundation, it's a sacrosanct place of worship that sees its philanthropic support rooted in three core areas; scholarships to London's best and largest art universities, Central Saint Martins and Slade, a year long artist residency accompanied by heavily-subsidised studio spaces, and a plethora of events made by and for the creative community alongside.

Talks, panels, workshops, gallery events, and mentoring sessions feature as a strong point among the foundation's charitable system and are key in the success stories of previous Sarabande residents of whom there are many, including Craig Green, Aaron Esh, Molly Goddard, Bianca Saunders and Michaela Stark (the latter whom made her Photo London debut in 2022 as an alabaster sculpture which formed the centre piece of Nick Knight's exhibition at the fair to celebrate his title as Master of Photography that year. The success of many alums is why Sarabande receives hundreds upon thousands of applications from a myriad of creatives encompassing textile artists, jewellery craftsmen fine art painters and fashion designers - each vying for just one of the thirty places the residency offers each year. ‘I think the whole aspect of community and this idea of loads of different identities and loads of different artists doing [a] bonkers curation of things is really kind of wild, isn't it?’ Wozniak observes.

Wild just about covers it. Wozniak and Romero both maintain that the community that you get within that year and the artists you work alongside, change everything. Practices range across the full spectrum of creative craft, and as such your exposure as a resident means you are constantly learning about your practice through the lens of others and vice-versa; a distinct experience few artist residencies can match, another reason why Sarabande trumps all.

Wozniak, who specialises in wet plate collodion photography, an 18th century process involving long exposure times and special glass and aluminium plates, will be presenting a new body of work at the Sarabande Photo London Discovery booth. As a kid, she was obsessed with time machines, frequently creating imaginary universe-bending machines under the dinner table. The only difference between then and now being that time isn't a topic reserved for evening fodder - it is the basis of which her entire practice is moulded around, the camera her machine. The limitations of time, its freedoms, and how we interact with it all fall under Wozniak's lens. ‘When I started working with it, I just could not believe that my eyes are tricking me so much. That this process is making me feel like I have a time machine, every time I enter my darkroom.’ Wozniak explains, noting that her work isn't there to capture reality, but to expose the surreal and amalgamate the past, present and future into one.

‘Fashion is all about now, what's next, speed, all of this sort of thing. So I'm coming at it from something that was out of date, something that has been forgotten, something that doesn't have a place anymore.’ Wozniak confirms. Through her application of such a classical technique and her appreciation for fashion, she creates work that feels displaced, seemingly sifting in time's loose sands. You are left questioning when her photographs were captured. Could they be the remnants of some fashionable 18th century debutante, or a portrait taken to remind the family of their father off to war? No, even better, a Dazed editorial with lithe models dressed in beguiling Dior gowns.

Similarly, Romero's plant-based process is uniquely singular. Watercress and leaves take on new life as Romero creates living moments, transient in medium. By projecting negatives on cress or leafs she's able, through prolonged exposure to light, to manipulate chlorophyll production and create images. Her girlhood growing up on an organic farm, passed down from her grandfather to her father, is intrinsic to her reasoning behind doing such intricate nature-driven work, which lies at the intersection of eco politics and identity meaning the very act of using plants and the process of her photography becomes a political stance. It's the very definition of process as protest. As Romero puts it, 'process is often overlooked, but actually how we do things, it's fundamental to why we do them. Because it's a political act. When you choose to do things in a specific manner, it's because you have a vision, that you believe in something.’

One of the more sobering examples of this is Romero's 2024 portrait of her late best friend Leticia who was horrifically killed by her partner. Romero debuted the portrait - which saw her friend immortalised and imprinted onto living watercress that grew over time - at Sarabande's Earth Monsters exhibition, curated by Sarabande alum Shirin Fathi in celebration of International Women's Day. Least to say, the artwork in question came with a message just as important as the revolutionary process Romero upholds in her practice, which frequently centres around Romero's relationships with her family, friends, her past, and the most recent subject of her chlorophyll-rich photographs; the artist's own hands.

‘I do put forward my contradictions. I don't hide from them. It's a self-questioning chapter of my production. So it's all photographs of my hands, because I am reflecting on my impact.’ Cupped hands, delicately placed one over the over are transposed onto leaves encased in a bio-resin. Romero effectively makes the process a part of her subject, and her subject a part of her process.