Alex Picasso-Messer — Alright, Sunshine
As a young man from Northern England I am often surrounded by unprovoked violence, casual betting and an unforgiving brotherhood. Alex Picasso-Messer’s Alright, Sunshine provides a nuanced perspective on male Britishness, addressing but not confronting pervasive, deep-rooted behavioural patterns of working-class masculinity.
Alright, Sunshine embodies the photographer’s personal perspectives which subtly address contemporary discussions of male mental health. Combining snapshot photography and staged imagery, Picasso-Messer delves into the implications of white British masculinity, using photography as a silent questioning of his relationship with the men around him, skirting around indirect symbolism.
LN: The images in the book are based on RA-4 and Lith prints handmade in the darkroom. Can you briefly explain your processes, as well as what prompted this decision?
AP: RA-4 is the chemistry used to make colour darkroom prints, while Lith prints refer to the black and white images through the book made with Lith chemistry. It’s an unconventional printing technique in which the chemical reacts with bromide in some outdated black and white photographic papers. A lot of the work in Alright Sunshine has been printed on these really old, expired paper stocks which aren’t available anymore. Basically, I’m using an out-dated process to echo the idea of passing cultural values through generations. It’s about having a conversation with the past, in physical and metaphorical terms.
The process actually helped me reflect on the relationship with my dad. How aspects of him and his values are passed down to me. I tried to pay attention to the shifting of values between generations into my images. The processes I was using while working in the darkroom speak to that. The physical processes helped me be mindful of how things were in his day. It’s about putting myself in their space of time to further understand my own values and their bondage to the past.
The project has made me more aware of my inherited values as well as the aspects of my identity which have come from personal relationships. Alright, Sunshine became an interesting self-analysis of my facets in the relationship to masculinity
LN: In that same sense, you previously mentioned ‘the work speaks to the healing power of photography, using it as a tool for self-exploration and reflection’. Can you expand on this?
AP: Me and a lot of the boys I know from childhood have had complicated or disrupted relationships with their fathers while growing up. For me, there’s been a lot of unspoken tensions in my life. But I know that with my dad, he had a very challenging upbringing — that speaks to a kind of generational trauma that a lot of us can experience. I find it especially apparent for those from broken homes or from working-class backgrounds, in a time where the man of the house was less present. In the work I wanted to meditate on these relationships, to honour their challenges and their endured entanglement.
There are three formal portraits in the book, one of my father, another of myself and a close friend of mine who I have shared many sentiments on our complicated feelings towards fatherhood with. We’ve often shared stories with each other so I thought it was important to also tell their part of the story. These portraits reference stylistic forms of classical paintings. I wanted to use the same gaze to hold the subject in the same high regard. Making these formal portraits, they simply aim to paint a positive picture of the people that are close to me. I think there became something healing about that.
LN: Through the two years of working on this project, did you see your preconceived notions on British masculinity change?
AP: I haven’t necessarily seen my perspective change, instead the project has made me more aware of my inherited values as well as the aspects of my identity which have come from personal relationships. Alright, Sunshine became an interesting self-analysis of my facets in the relationship to masculinity, such as my ambitions and career. The project pushed me to be more conscious of how we’re led as men to think and behave in certain ways. I think that consciousness, the recognition of patterns, that’s what I learnt the most.
The analysis of our behaviours as men in the way in which we process our emotions and deal with relationships became such a massive part in my desire to make this. I noticed a disconnect in our society and it became something I felt like I needed to address.
LN: I think that is really the foundation for change. Once a person is able to understand that a habit which seem ‘normal’ to them may not be healthy, and sometimes even damaging, it allows that person to re-adjust their mindset and perspective. With many people’s daily life highlighted throughout the book, it quickly becomes clear that these routines should not be so regular. There is a surface cheerfulness, yet something deeper is hinted at throughout.
AP: Yeah, this concept is where the rhetorical title Alright, Sunshine derives from. It has its ironic nature, yet it doubles as a question on mental health. We haven’t even said those words, yet that’s really the centre of the project. The book came about after a tragic event in my family. The analysis of our behaviours as men in the way in which we process our emotions and deal with relationships became such a massive part in my desire to make this. I noticed a disconnect in our society and it became something I felt like I needed to address.
LN: I resonate with this idea of disconnect through the working-class environment. For me, the focus should not be on pushing people to ‘open up’ — I think this is getting better with time, while it’s nowhere near where it should be. Instead, the power comes through the understanding of who we are in relation to our surroundings. In addressing this topic there becomes a foundation in which we can have such a conversation.
AP: I think that’s the scariest part — many of us think we know who we are, yet we all have different faces for different people. We can perceive that as our identity, but I think it’s much more complex than that. For me, it’s all about being our most authentic self and having these conversations with those who we’re close to.
LN: What I find most interesting about this photobook is its place in society. Have you thought about the reach of photography in relation to such a topic?
AP: It’s actually a side of the book I never considered. In my artistic practice I am interested in questioning these regularities for which photography permits a really interesting and insightful grounds of exploration. It’s interesting because you’re making the work about that, you’re surrounded by that, yet you’re showing it in a setting not necessarily tailored for those people. It’s unfortunate because the most engaging responses have been from those who are closer to that life, yet on the other side it’s also interesting to see the work take on new meaning when in the hands of someone else.
LN: I see this form of work as beneficial for photography and art in the sense that it allows working class men to resonate with something inside the art world. I’ve seen a lot of work disregarded by those in the working class because the person isn’t able to resonate with the work. Even worse, people begin disassociating themselves with art due to its classist barrier. Alright Sunshine provides a contextual relatability which goes beyond self-reflection but also speaks directly to one’s relationship with art.
AP: That’s great, I find that so interesting, and I think it goes both ways. While it allows a more personable relatability towards art, it also acts as exposure to those outside of this community, as well as in a wider academic context.
Alex Picasso-Messer
