15 London photographers dreaming up radical alternatives to city life

The title of Evan Purdy and Molly Maltman’s new group show at ORi Berlin, Madly awake am I at my small window, is taken from a 1961 poem by Angus McIntosh: “Tortured my mind's eye at its small peephole / sees through the virid glass / the endless ghostly oscillographic stream / Furiously sleep ideas green colourless / Madly awake am I at my small window.” Earlier this year, Molly came across the poem while in hospital in the UK for a clinical trial, following a trip to Athens where the pair witnessed a liberal artistic community that had carved out its own spaces for “vulnerability, intimacy, coming together”. 

“I was experiencing this crazy contrast of having felt such a freedom out there, to now being bound in a bed having my blood taken every thirty minutes just to make some money,” she tells Dazed. “My bed was by a window which I could hardly see out of because the lights were on constantly. I laugh about it, [but] it really shows what lengths people are willing to go to, to survive in London. I was awake most nights... literally madly awake dreaming of being beyond this little window.”

It’s an image that applies to the lives of many young people in London, she points out – “this desire to know what exists beyond the glass that surrounds us” – as they live paycheque to paycheque with little support or community and a scarcity of spaces in which to create.

In Athens, just like in the UK, the “state fights against this basic right for space,” says Evan, but “young people are moved so much by their beliefs and values that they [put] their politics into action”. This includes taking ownership of empty buildings (and fending off riot police) to form squats and other spaces where young people can live and work without spending too much money.

“Witnessing a fragment of that resistance [in Athens] made me really think about how we could do something similar at home in relation to art,” Molly explains. “We were really excited by how we could push the limits of DIY within London and beyond. In coming together and making something happen lies a real freedom, a sort of hope.”

“We started to think about what such spaces in London would look like for artists,” Evan adds, and what it would be like for UK creatives to have exhibition spaces “removed from [the] pressure of commercialisation”. The resulting group show brings together a whole host of London-based artists – including Jesse Glazzard, Trinity Ellis, Celia Croft, Siam Coy, Timon Benson, and more – with a focus on photography, though there’s also a featured poem by Celeste Bourgoyne. It might seem like a strange decision to stage these works at a space in Berlin, instead of the English capital, but this kind of cultural crossover is built into the aims of show itself: to question how we might explore alternative modes of collective existence via transnational creative exchange.

“For me,” Molly says, “it’s the idea of bridging people across cities, across countries, outside of institutional settings and social media. It’s knowing that we want to connect with people all around the world, and seeing curatorial activations as a way of doing so.”

Below, the curators tell us more.

What was the curatorial process like for Madly awake am I at my small window, and how did that speak to the collective mindset behind the show? 

Evan Purdy: We share really similar tastes in photography. There’s an enormous amount of talented photographers in London, but I think their initial passion and love for photography is lost to commercialisation. It’s sad, but it’s the current reality. I was interested in offering a non-commercial, experimental space where these photographers could share more personal work. It was really exciting to know that people wanted to be involved, despite there being no monetary gain. It feels like the start of something bigger.

Molly Maltman: Yeah, the idea of sharing a part of themselves that maybe wouldn’t be seen otherwise. Each image in the show is entirely unseen, which is our attempt at separating ourselves – and the exhibition space – from the institution and social media. A lot of the photographers in the show are our friends too, which speaks to this idea of building something together. 

Evan Purdy: We’re all sharing these experiences [of] living inside cities, in all [their] isolation and separation, together. And we wanted to see how each photographer responded to that. 

Can you expand a bit on the sense of isolation you feel as a person (and particularly a creative) living inside a city? 

Evan Purdy: We flock to these cities in search of something. I think most people are unsure what it is that they’re looking for, but for me, I think ultimately the answer is love. There is no other reason why people would choose to live in such inhospitable and unwelcoming places that are not designed for living but instead designed for profit.

Living in a city, especially one like London, means you cannot escape the truth of what our government has created. But despite that really difficult reality, there will always be hope when people are intimate with one other. People in cities are bonded by these shared experiences – that’s why people in major cities are some of the most open and tolerant people you can find. The isolation we feel comes not from being physically alone, but being innately aware that we are missing deep connections to other human beings, true community.

What drew you to Celeste’s poem? 

Molly Maltman: I met Celeste when I was living in Berlin in 2022. Cel had just moved and was sofa surfing, navigating this whole new place, and we both really bonded over the difficulty of moving to a European country post Brexit. It’s been so great to see how they’ve really set themselves into the city and its art scene, especially with ORi. 

Cel has always been a writer whose words I’ve loved, they’re so poignant and really can touch you so deeply. For this particular project, I was interested in how their experience of having one foot in the UK and the other in Berlin would be shaped into words. In this way, their words become the sort of bridge between the two cities, capturing feelings of isolation and a need to change things. 

How do you hope the show itself can help with bridging gaps and forging new connections? 

Evan Purdy: I hope we’ll be bringing people a more honest interaction with photography. Choosing to show in a city where most people looking at the work won’t know anything about the person who took the photo really allows the images to [provoke] raw reactions. Also, connecting artists together should always lead to a lot of collective inspiration, and maybe even a collective direction for future work. We have to focus on each other. Nothing else matters. 

Molly Maltman: It’s asking: what happens when young artists separate themselves from the system? What happens when togetherness is found within this separation? What happens when we look beyond our small windows, smashing, breaking them, madly awake, sleepless, with an alternative version of existence? 

What excites you most about the UK photography scene in 2024? 

Molly Maltman: My friends. All my favourite photographers are my friends. That’s what excites me. 

Evan Purdy: I’m excited by how our generation of photographers, who grew up with social media and a pervasive image culture, are challenging the things around them through the lens. Photography can be a radical tool for sharing a perspective. But for photography to be at its most potent I don’t think it should be experienced through social media. This show is about being able to experience a hand-printed photo in real life, allowing your mind time and space to really think about what you’re looking at.

Madly awake am I at my small window runs at ORi Berlin from March 22 to March 24.