Andie Wilkinson‘s photographs from ‘Close To Home/Autumn’ are beautiful and resonant, manage to inhabit a quiet silence that reflects both the season and the peace of rural life. Of being happy in ones own skin, in life and the cycle of nature that manifests itself in all its deathly glory at this time of year.
Incredibly Wilkinson has no digital footprint, I can’t follow her, into her world, into the woods of her imagination, a place in which she lives in tune with the forest, the earth and the sky, the dying summer and the approaching winter.
For many, including me, Autumn is a time of reflection, of days in which we become most aware of our own mortality; the leaves dying , the insects gone, the mice looking to find a warmer place to make their home, wild berries harvested, the wind and rain moving in, the arc of the sun lowering everyday until the darkness blankets our daily life. And the winter sets in. Hard. Cold, Unrelenting. And we wait. For the spring to bring renewed life. Fresh, young, full of vigour and hope.
In these picture we get that sense of passing time; the dead mouse caught scurrying across the floor, the dying light shining on a vase of Hydrangeas, a spiders web stuck hard and fast as if preparing itself for the onslaught of more demanding weather, a young boy fishing in twilight, the forest oppressive at the turn of the day, a basin of water sitting on a cold stone slab. The textures are deep, the colours rich yet dour, the light wan yet beautiful in its fragile nature.
These photographs are a paean to Autumn, to nature, to life. They are nuanced, poetic and touch on the divine. Each picture the work of an empathetic artist who has a deep understanding of her subject matter and treats everything she sees through her lens with a tenderness and love that is utterly beguiling.