A wonderful way to start the year! I’m thrilled to share that my project, Fractured Whispers – created to bring attention to the dwindling Scottish Celtic Rainforests – has been featured in a 12-page spread in the winter edition of Studies in Photography. This beautifully crafted journal, printed on lovely paper stock, is filled with insightful and well-written features. It’s an honour to see my work showcased alongside artists that I deeply admire.
You can read the full article below the magazine images.
The text from Studies in Photography can be read below:
Title: Fractured Whispers: A Journey Through Scottish Celtic Rainforests
In the heart of these ancient Celtic / Atlantic rainforest’s is where the veil between the worlds is thinnest!
I can almost hear the murmurs of bygone tales, resonating through the ages and igniting the imagination of bards and storytellers. Each branch tells a story, every leaf whispers a secret, and every shadow holds a fragment of forgotten lore. Here, in these Scottish enchanted rainforests, myths take root, stories come alive, and the spaces between become gateways to the imagination.
I’m Ian Phillips-McLaren, a British artist, photographer, educator, and alternative printmaker. Born and raised in Glasgow, Scotland (b. 1960), I began my journey into photography in 1985 by buying a second-hand camera and enrolling in a course at Woodside Secondary School, Glasgow. My professional journey started with the Glasgow artists’ cooperative, WASPS, sharing studio space at the iconic Wills Tobacco Factory on the Alexandra Parade.
In 1989, I was the subject of the BBC TV film A Style of One’s Own and soon afterward became Artist in Residence at the Glasgow School of Art. In 1992, I moved to London and gained recognition for my portraiture. In 2016, I began experimenting with alternative print processes, shifting my focus to personal work. Motivated by self-knowledge, I pursued an MA in Fine Art at Cambridge School of Art, exploring themes of self, identity, memory, and our connection to the natural world. Jungian theories influence my work, enhancing my understanding of the ‘self’ and adding depth and authenticity to my work as an artist.
Process is key to understanding my work and its transformation “The distance between professional photographer and artist was not a space that I expected to traverse. Yet here I am,”
In my current project, ‘Fractured Whispers,’ I explore the remnants of the Scottish Celtic rainforests, drawing inspiration from their rich tapestry of myths, folklore, and imagination. This project began by accident while researching another project. As a proud Scot living down south, I searched for a way to stay connected to my homeland and discovering Scotland’s temperate rainforests was a revelation. After a year of research, I ventured into my first Celtic Rainforest, the Wood of Cree, near Newton Stewart, on April 8, 2023.
I felt inspired to draw attention to these rare, endangered woodlands and knowing that the majority of the remaining 1% of the fragments in the UK were found mostly in Scotland spurned on my commitment. This vital habitat needs restoration, not only for the wildlife it shelters but also for its significant carbon benefits.
Atlantic storms, abundant rainfall, and high humidity create a moisture-rich environment where these habitats can flourish. Yet, centuries of deforestation have taken their toll. According to the Woodland Trust, this globally rare ecosystem is now “more threatened than tropical rainforest.”
As I wandered through these moss-laden canopies, I had no preconceived ideas about what I might find. After some exploring, I chose an interesting area and immersed myself in it, absorbing its energy and essence, this process is a form of phenomenology, understanding the landscape through direct experience—listening, observing, and allowing the forest to reveal its sounds, smells, and colour palette to me.
I quietly sat and looked around, then I closed my eyes, almost like a meditation but rather than trying to clear my mind, I try to absorb as much as I can, listening and feeling, letting the Atlantic breeze gently stroke my skin, and although the days were dry, the ambience was damp and humid. I listened to the sounds around me like the breeze making the leaves rustle, the running water of the stream, the drips from the moss-covered tree to the forest floor and any sounds that I could make out in the distance. When I opened my eyes, I’d take in what the forest presents to me – the spindly native trees, oak, birch, and ash, and all sorts of things, and the things that grow out of other things, they’re called Epiphytes – a fancy name for plants that grow on other plants, like mosses, ferns, fungi and lichens. The lichen, commonly known as ‘old man’s beard,’ was everywhere, it only grows where the air is pure. If I squinted my eyes, I could almost see Odin himself, his beard swaying in the breeze. This is how myths were born.
There’s an ancient wisdom and primal essence in these forests that modern society has largely lost touch with. When I sat among the trees, I could feel an unspoken bond with those who came before me, knowing that I occupied a moment in time that echoes back thousands of years. I felt a palpable presence, unseen forces weaving between the trees, a sense of something bigger and greater than me and that I wasn’t alone. This fuels my creativity.
When I first reviewed my images, I was less than impressed. They seemed too Tolkien-esque, too “Lord of the Rings.” But after some very long thoughts and a few days later, I realized, this was what the forest had presented me with, so I embraced them and grew to love them.
The materiality and making of the images are crucial to my practice. What will I print them on? How will I present them? What size should they be? Which hand-made process suits the project? The process can take several weeks, involving the layering of pigments and continuous experimentation. Once, it took seven months to complete just one image. I can spend weeks in the darkroom with nothing to show for it. It’s much like painting—you never quite know when to stop. You think, “I’ll just add one final layer,” and then, with one wrong brush stroke of pigment and light-sensitive chemicals, the print ends up in the bin. One layer too many.
For ‘Fractured Whispers,’ I shot all the images digitally on a Canon 5D Mark II and decided to present them as gum bichromate prints, a challenging but beautiful and painterly process.
I learned how to make my own artist pigments around 30 years ago and decided to incorporate this into my gum printing, infusing each image in this series with the very essence of the rainforest. I forage for pigments on a separate day from the shoot, allowing me to focus solely on finding the colours. Every place on Earth has its own unique colour palette, shaped by its geographical location. Sometimes, while foraging for pigments, I also record the sounds of the forest, including the actual trees used in the images. I do this by using specially made microphones placed in the trees or clamped onto the moss, who knew that moss sounded like someone continually crushing a crisp packet or a tree sounded like someone has left a tap running. I hope to eventually create an installation that combines these images and sounds for a more immersive experience.
By incorporating foraged pigments from the forest floor into my prints, I’m fostering a bond between art and nature and deepening my connection with the landscape, and bridging the relationship between the subject, myself, and the viewer. Each piece breathes with the spirit of the land, allowing its magic to unfold within the gallery space. My aim is that ‘Fractured Whispers’ helps rekindle our connection to nature, urging protection of these dwindling rainforests.
Creating my gum prints is much like painting and can take just as long, if not longer. The process closely resembles my Turneresque approach to painting, especially in terms of layering. I use layers of paint and glazes to achieve the desired colours, and I apply the same technique to my photographic images.
Gum printing is a hand-made printing technique that traces back to the beginning of photography with images like the Flat Iron by Edward Steichen, an artist and photographer and one of the most important figures in the history of photography, Steichen was credited with transforming photography into an art form.
By using watercolour pigments to create photographic prints, I’m producing hybrid prints that are part painting and part photograph. Each multi-layered work is labour-intensive, often requiring four to eleven layers of watercolour pigment. For ‘The Burn, Glen Nant,’ a nine-panel image, I needed 27 CMY (Cyan, Magenta, and Yellow) A3-sized digital negatives, printed on OHP transparency material. Each panel requires three CMY negatives, making the creation of each image a true labour of love.
To bring the ‘Fractured Whispers’ images to life, I created narratives around them. Stories like ‘The Keeper of Barra Mòr,’ ‘The Burn, Glen Nant,’ and ‘Kenneth MacAlpin’s Throne’ add depth to my project.
The Keeper of Barra Mòr A mysterious silhouette, draped in moss, emerges from the depths of the ancient rainforest, like a figure from a forgotten legend. This strange creature captivates us with its otherworldly presence, a testament to nature’s boundless imagination.
The Burn, Glen Nant Time takes on a different dimension here. Among ancient trees and tangled undergrowth lies a clock crafted of moss and whispers. The gentle flow of water, a timeless chronicle, carries the stories of ages past. This forest is a sanctuary outside mortal time, where the past, present, and future converge in a timeless symphony of life and renewal.
Kenneth MacAlpin’s Throne According to tradition, Kenneth the 1st inherited the throne of Dál Riada from his father, conquered the Picts, and began the campaign to seize all of Scotland. He is considered the founder of Scotland. Other stories and myths can be found on my website.
Teaching my processes at universities in Cambridge and London significantly influences my work, adding depth and dynamism to my practice. Engaging with students and the academic community allows me to continuously explore and refine my techniques by pushing the boundaries of traditional analogue photography and alternative processes. The academic setting provides a fertile ground for experimentation and innovation, which directly feeds into my creative process. By sharing my knowledge and learning from the perspectives of emerging artists, I ensure that my work remains vibrant and evolving, constantly infused with fresh insights and approaches.