Jonathan Michael Ray’s art practice comprises of works in photography, installation, print, drawing and video. His work examines the multilayered histories and fictions of artefacts and places. While usually based in Cornwall, UK, Jonathan recently completed a residency at ThirdBase Studios in Lisbon during which we had a chat about his work and his time in Portugal. As I arrived at the studio, Jonathan was working on a photographic installation, Magician’s Hideaway, one of a series of works created using imagery from Cornwall and Lisbon. He was also producing an edition of cyanotypes, using the Lisbon sun as a lightsource, referencing contemporary graffiti left by tourists around Portugal at famous historical locations such as Sintra and Obidos. Here our conversation took place:

Tim: Could you talk a little bit about photography and its place within your practice and in particular this series of collage/installation works.

Jonathan: Although I was never a student of photography, the medium took on an important role for me when I was living in Montreal, Canada, between 2011-14. It was the first time I had lived away from the UK and seeing a new part of the world, particularly the landscapes of Quebec and the Eastern Provinces, pushed me towards using a camera and subsequently thinking about photography in depth. I immediately took issue with fine art photography, especially landscape photography; the equipment, printing, framing, expense etc – it all felt too restrained for me, and basically detached from the physical and often emotional act of looking. So I began experimenting with alternative photographic materials and tools and against what I saw as the traditional expectations in this field. Fast forward to 2019, and photography is still a central part of what a do. Before I came on residency at Thirdbase Studios, I had an idea that Portugal and Cornwall were somehow connected, perhaps only by their proximity to the Atlantic Ocean, facing west and their relationship to seafaring, but perhaps also historically. Both Cornwall and Iberia are well known for their ancient civilizations; quoits, dolmens, menhir and stone circles litter both of these landscapes. Cultures such as the Phoenicans would have been visiting both of these places perhaps before either knew the other existed. Either way, my imagination took hold and I began looking at how I could create more engaging and complex images by grouping photographs I had taken in Cornwall and Portugal together so that their collaged state suggested something that their individual parts never could. Collectively, these aren’t real places, but perhaps they could be one day. I have been reading JG Ballard and Neil Gaiman recently, so these kind of stories are around me and I think Tom McCarthy’s Remainder plays an important role in exploring the power of half remembered events. For me, it felt really important to print and mount each photograph separately, rather than preparing the collage digitally and printing it as a single image. By making a more sculptural collage through the works’ installation, the aim is to not fix the reading too much and give an impression that there could be images/details to add or even take away such is the way with stories and memories over time.

Tim: In previous works such as Underdeveloped Reconstruction (made in China) you similarly energise the photographic work and avoid the standard presentation of the image, why is this important to you?

Jonathan: This comes back to personally wanting to take photography beyond a pictorial plane. I want to use my experience or knowledge of the landscape in which a photo has been made to highlight something or exaggerate the place and image itself. I created the photograph in this work in Hong Kong using a flatbed scanner, and although I could see it was a strong image I knew it would be an injustice to simply print and frame it. The image related directly to the land and lush vegetation of Hong Kong and I needed it to come to life. By having it printed onto a rug and then using it to cover up old bricks the work became so much more than just a good photograph with a story. The form of the installation related directly to the content of image itself and also what I had seen endlessly around the city; a push and pull existence between the man-made structures and the natural growth of the tropical landscape in which Hong Kong has been built. Having the rug printed in a factory in mainland China added another layer of complexity which hardly needs to be explained. When faced with an image or a set of images that I would like to work with I begin by asking myself ‘what do I think this photograph says, how can it say more, why stop there’, and ‘finally do I even need a photograph to achieve this’? It’s not really enough for me to print and work with images purely based on a belief that it is a “good photograph,” something that only shows I am a “good photographer.” It’s needs to do more and be more.

Tim: How do the cyanotypes relate to the photographs?

Jonathan: The cyanotype process is a well-known early forerunner to photographic printing processes, so it’s connection to photography and printmaking is unavoidable. I’ve always liked the cyanotype process for its inaccuracies and looseness. I like the physical relationship to the material and making without having to be in a darkroom. This new cyanotype edition is a cropped photograph of a wall at Palacio da Pena, Sintra, in which tourists have carved their names and various symbols or messages. Probably seen by many as a crime, I’m always struck by the timeless act of leaving a mark. Whenever I see a collective gathering of such inscriptions, I can’t help but see a beauty to it. Like fossils in limestone — another symbol of Portugal in my eyes – these markings don’t amount to much in and of themselves, and can be easily erased, but what they represent to me is going beyond our basic human understanding of life. The work is a photograph of the inscriptions, but I knew the cyanotype process would negate the photo element and it would become more like a drawing or frottage. On top of this, the cyanotype image always seems to create something that feels like it’s from the 19th century, which I like to see juxtaposed with such contemporary markings.

Tim: In these other works you are making reference to the same style of mark making as in the cyanotypes. Looking at them they could have been scratched in to a bus stop last week or they could be centuries old cyphers, there is an ambiguity to them that is really engaging.

Jonathan: The markings engraved on two limestone blocks “Not Really Now” and “Not Any More” are collected from all over Portugal; in the city of Lisbon, in museum collections, at popular tourist destinations and at archeological sites. A plethora of symbols and messages range from the inane, mundane and silly, to the somber and sacred. I am not really interested in each marking’s specific meaning, but more the very human act of leaving a record. I’ve created these small limestone monuments to contemplate the vast and ever-growing collection of stories unknown and untold. Stories that, for no particular reason, are not historically important. Without any particular context for understanding, all of these marks take on an equality of life; their stories and reasons for being merge into a single mass. In the future, it is not difficult to believe that a hastily engraved Chanel logo or “Euro Bob Was Here” will garner as much wonder and mystery as an engraving from ancient civilizations or a memorial stone to an unknown Roman, and this is a beautiful thing.

Tim: The final body of work I see in the studio is the presentation of found and collected objects, items from your time here. Each of these items are beautiful and so carefully arranged and presented. Can you talk us through your process of choosing these items?

Jonathan: I began by studying archeological and folk collections from museums. In particular, objects and the way they are arranged or the descriptions of their known or imagined uses and lives. With this interest and awareness, I visited antique and vintage junk shops around Lisbon and quickly discovered Feira da Ladra (Thieves Market), a famous bi-weekly market that takes place in the city centre where you can buy everything. From Portuguese tiles and ceramics to broken electronics, books, objets d’art from local makers, antiques, even human bones; it’s better than any museum in Lisbon and was the source for several of the key pieces seen in these new works. I was also inspired by the family mausoleums found in Portuguese cemeteries. Peering through the occasional opening of these small, highly stylized limestone houses, you can see the caskets, along with a display of photos of the deceased, flowers or objects from life, all covered with a thick layer of dust, and lit by windows fitted with brightly coloured glass.

Tim: The curation of these objects alongside fabricated items blurs the line of the readymade. We are looking at more than items you have found but at stories. How important is the generated narrative within these works and through your practice as a whole?

Jonathan: The process of selection and arrangement of these works took months and I did not have a clear idea of them from the outset. Guided by literature, folktales, and museum displays, the collections grew very gradually week after week. The introduction of hands seemed to activate certain objects. Limestone lintels and coloured glass helped frame and stage the scene, while also providing a notion of something sacred. It was important that each object I chose had a sense of history or use, and somehow embodied a part of someone’s story; a worn coin, a particular style of glassware, an old tool, a lost photograph, a broken ceramic sculpture. I didn’t want the objects to be easily identified as being taken from, or symbols of, an exact moment, place or person in history, which would interfere with the mystery and narrative of the works. There is a connection between these readymade sculptural pieces and the photo collages, both in content and the decision making involved in their selections. Like the photo collages, I wanted to focus on the potential narrative within the choice and arrangement of objects, while, apart from the title of each work, leaving the reading as open as possible.

Tim: You have made some work as a collaboration with Wills Brewer whilst on the residency, can you talk us through the process and how the collaboration affected and informed your practice.

Jonathan: Wills is interested in connecting and working with the earth, past cultures and practices in making and building, and he’d been creating some beautifully constructed objects from a local terracotta clay. We’d been sharing ideas and knowledge throughout the residency and so collaborating came about really naturally. We decided to explore the region of Évora together; Neolithic sites, roman remains, quarries, brickworks, of course the Capela dos Ossos and everything in-between. The work itself was a response to this incredible landscape called “Behind The Wall Of Sleep”. The major difference for me, when collaborating in this way, is having the very welcome challenge of communicating ideas from the get go. Instead of privately mulling things over as the work progresses, thoughts become conversations which immediately take new and interesting directions, and the outcome, though often familiar, is completely advanced beyond what I could have achieved alone. When I’m working on my own I can become really focused, almost obsessed, on details. So it is completely liberating to become less precious about such things.

Interview with Jonathan Michael Ray