For this open call, I am presenting three photographs (each submitted separately) that explore the idea of “the road” not as a physical route but as a condition of being suspended between certainty and unknown. In each image movement becomes reflection rather than destination. Whether hanging above a mountain, balanced over an empty desert, or suspended against an endless sky, the subject exists in a moment that is neither arrival nor departure. I am interested in how vast landscapes alter our perception of ourselves. They reduce the individual to a fragile presence while simultaneously revealing a profound sense of freedom. In these environments, progress is measured less by distance than by trust, vulnerability, and acceptance. Together, these photographs investigate the road as a metaphor for transformation. They suggest that the most meaningful journeys occur not when we reach a destination, but while we inhabit the uncertain space between where we have been and where we are going. I have given each photograph its own interpretation in an uploaded file next to the photo. The files are currently digital but I'm based in London and I can print and deliver.

Endurance

This image explores movement as a condition that persists even when direction is interrupted. The body is not in pause, but in active resistance, held between forces that both constrain and propel it forward. The work focuses on the physical negotiation required to continue within unstable conditions. Here, the road is not a path that is followed, but a tension that is endured.

Direction

This image considers the relationship between body and landscape as a form of orientation rather than arrival. The line becomes both structure and path, cutting through the terrain as a minimal but defining element of direction. Standing upon it, the figure is placed within space rather than moving through it, suggesting a moment where travel is no longer about transition, but about positioning within the environment. Here, the road is reduced to its most essential form: a line that organises space rather than leads somewhere.

Transformation

This image explores the moment where movement becomes internal rather than geographical. The line is almost invisible against the landscape, leaving the subject suspended between departure and arrival. Here, the road is not a destination but a state of becoming.

The Road has always been a symbol of freedom. From the highways of a lost America to the ancient wanderings of disciples and poets , it represents the search for something beyond routine, boredom and conformity . These photographs explore that feeling in a different landscape , the remote Scottish Highlands. In one of Europe's last wildernesses , the Road travels through vast spaces of silence, light and nature .Mountains loom over wild flowers in bloom. An ancient slowly changing vista. These images are a remembrance of that , a trip away from the pressures of the modern world and towards solitude, wonder and a deeper sense of existence.

Haven

Movement

Possibility

I am an Iranian-Irish writer + visual artist, working across the mediums of photography, poetry and lyrical memoir essays. I live in England and I'm studying a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature and Creative Writing. My practice is deeply influenced by my mixed heritage and the effects of the psychological and physical displacement from both sides of these lineages. I am interested in how nature, landscapes and the physical world can act as metaphors and backdrops for the complex internal experiences of displacement, the ongoing search for home, as well as for trauma, memory, visions and dreams. How dreamlike and subconscious imagery can be externalised into the physical world and blend the psychological with the material. I am drawn to exploring inherited and collective memory and trauma, and how this affects communities, societies and the individual psyche. Also, the ways interdisciplinary art forms and hybrid genres of writing better articulate psychological complexity, and communicate with one another to create a broader narrative. This piece blends archival landscapes symbolising the search for home into a newly realised vision. Capturing the exact threshold where past and future dissolves into one present moment, spiritual realization of a future dream.

Future Memory

An open road.

Leave your past behind and become someone new.

The compulsion to leave. A search for your home.

Throw yourself to the road.

A fresh start, you imagine. The light to the unknown.

The road is your place.

Free from the cage of your starting location.

Sensitive to the sounds, the screech of the brakes.

Friends you once knew flash before your eyes, dentities shatter.

Trapped in your mind.

You are nobody here.

Final encounters with your past self. Truths you tried not to face.

Something must die.

Are you ready to go?

To be everything you could imagine. To be nothing at once.

Or was the road always just a memory away?

A vision of a skyline you could see, not reach.

An unmet lover.

A last song.

A new life.

And when you arrive, your whole life has changed.

Chris Mann (b. 1993) is a photographer from South Yorkshire, currently based in London, UK. Visually distilling the space around him, his work oscillates between the natural and man-made, transient and timeless, creating ambiguous, open-ended images that leave space for the viewer’s imagination. Working predominantly with black-and-white 35mm film and silver gelatin printing, he processes and hand-prints everything in his East London darkroom using traditional analogue methods. His work has been exhibited across Europe, including the 7th edition of In Cadaqués Photo Festival, and featured in publications internationally. He was shortlisted for the Palm* Photo Prize, Bergger Analog Prize, and selected as an emerging European talent by GUP magazine. His book Valley of the Moon was published by Guest Editions.

“In a world saturated with instant images, Chris Mann chooses the slowness of 35mm film and the sobriety of black and white. Through the grain of the film, he reveals the abstraction present in reality, transforming subjects into a play of contrasts where shadow and light alter the perception of the place. His images, open to interpretation, become gateways to worlds without anchors, inviting each viewer to project their own memories. Through their rigor and sobriety, his photographs remind us that to look is also to imagine.”

Untitled (Gobustan)

Chukwudi Nwachukwu is a Nigerian photographer whose practice explores the relationship between people, memory, labour, identity, and place. Working primarily through long-form photographic projects, he is interested in how everyday experiences reveal broader social and cultural realities. Growing up in a clergy family in the southeastern Nigeria and later living in Port Harcourt shaped his interest in communities, belonging, and the environments people inhabit. His work often focuses on overlooked stories and quiet moments of resilience, examining how individuals navigate change, responsibility, tradition, and survival. Through both documentary observation and carefully considered visual composition, his photographs seek to create spaces for reflection while preserving experiences that might otherwise go unseen. Recent projects have explored riverine fishing communities in the Niger Delta, themes of labour and endurance, personal memory, and the emotional landscapes that shape contemporary life. His work has been exhibited internationally and featured in publications dedicated to contemporary African photography and visual culture.

Return from the Tide

Return from the Tide considers movement not simply as travel, but as a condition of survival and continuity along the waterways of the Niger Delta, Nigeria. The work has been featured by People of Print, The Guzangs Eye, Africans Column, and selected for the Griffin Museum of Photography's Material Work: Toil & Grace exhibition. In this context, the river becomes its own form of road — a space where life, memory, and survival are constantly negotiated.

Denise Felkin is a British Editorial & Fine Art Documentary photographer. Driven by research-led projects around marginalised and unconventional people, she collaborates with subjects to create cutting-edge images that speak out about current issues, reveal a truthful voice, and promote sustainability, unity, equality, inclusivity, and compassion.  In Site reveals a hidden community, and unseen images of people who lived on the fringes of society. Set in a zeitgeist of apocalyptic domesticity that existed in east London over two decades, a social-cultural anthropology is disclosed; juxtaposed with the mainstream society it was adjacent to. The images provide a glimpse of an underground lifestyle, with roots in New Travellers communities. Respect, freedom, truth, and beauty are conveyed, with an unpretentious perception of the experience and expression of an urban sub-culture. Embedded are elements of citizenship, domesticity, and sustainability as a strong societal message, in contrast to industrialisation and capitalism.

In Site

Simon (1964-2023) was born in Deeside, North Wales; the oldest of four; with three sisters. While living with his partner, and two young children, he went out to buy a tin of paint but did not return. Years later, he was residing in a layby in Gloucestershire, and after relocated to east London because of the brutality caused by unjustified discrimination against Gypsies and Travellers have faced since the draconian Criminal Justice and Public Order Acts were introduced into British Politics which aimed to destroy an energetic youth culture. After living on site in Whitechapel, the tenant in chief leased commercial property. There are hundreds rented arches across London, his three arches under the overground line, include a spacious domain, provided a safe place for travellers to live in vehicles. The yard was an empire of freedom, framed as a way of life beyond politics or hierarchy filled with colourful and dignified characters. Kitchen sink realism is developed within an urban industrial landscape to reveal domesticity, creativity, and humanism within the hustle and bustle of the multicultural capital. The people on site were mostly men, they turned up by word of mouth from New Traveller communities and pitched their customized live-in vehicles. No contract was signed, new tenants would bung Simon enough to cover a month’s rent in advance, and rent fees went by the amount of space each person required. Simon often said if he lost site, he would end up on a park bench, or prison. In later years debts accumulated, aggravation came from bailiffs, and had to use a food bank. He considered moving on to live on a boat on the River Lea. However, in Summer 2023, Simon had a heart attack at home in bed. The paramedic said he probably passed peacefully in his sleep. The coroner reported it was caused by his excessive drinking. At his funeral, his sister asked why he took on such a huge financial responsibility. The truth is that site was his empire. He needed the community vibe he created as it gave him a sense of purpose and belonging.

Esra Mengülerek shapes her artistic practice around the relationship between humans and space, the traces of waste and memory, the conflict-ridden continuity between nature and humanity, and the dialectic between the self and the body. In the artist’s work, space is positioned not merely as a physical environment, but as an element intertwined with social contexts, bearing emotional and historical burdens, and gaining existence through mutual interaction with the subject. Spaces shaped by human presence and constructing their own narrative in the absence of humans become carriers of both individual and collective memory. In this context, concepts such as abandonment, traces, waste, and silence take on new meanings in the artist’s works.

Breaking Point

In all of my work, both academic and creative, I try to understand the cultural, ideological, environmental, and sociological order of the world, as well as the ordinary structures of daily life, by reading, using and producing images, which will hopefully open up new doors to the future. I use photography to conduct visual ethnographic research, and produce photographic installations that are highly conceptual. As an artist, teacher, and curator, I try to hold in balance the artistic with the anthropological, sociological, and the theoretical. Many of the photo-essays, installations, and social-artistic projects I have launched concern social issues: projects protesting violence against children and women; installations about cultural diversity, gender, mindset, and the environment; and my work with an all women photography collective as an activist and curator. The conceptually driven photography I produce is socially embedded and theoretically engaged.

Soulless

My practice, both photographic and drawn, seeks to engage with aspects of lived experience that resist linear explanation and cannot be fully articulated through words alone. Through the direct and intuitive act of image-making, I aim to create work that is grounded in presence, a state in which there is no separation between the camera, the photographer, and the surrounding environment. Authenticity and honesty are central to this process. The work emerges from an attentiveness to life as it unfolds in real time. By embracing the fluidity and ever-changing dynamics of the urban landscape, I seek to recognise the significance of the overlooked and the familiar. Through location-based work, I document the people, spaces, gestures, and encounters that constitute everyday life. These images focus on fleeting moments that are often observed only briefly before being forgotten or disregarded. My practice reflects upon the perceived mundanity of daily experience and proposes that these subtle, unassuming moments possess their own unique value and beauty. By preserving them, I invite viewers to reconsider the ordinary and acknowledge its virtues before it disappears into memory. In an age characterised by the constant consumption of digital imagery and the relentless stream of hyper-stimulating content, the simple acts of slowing down, looking, and truly seeing have become increasingly rare. My work advocates for the importance of primary experience and direct engagement with the world, resisting the tendency to substitute lived encounters with mediated versions of reality. Influenced by the principles of Zen Buddhism, particularly the concept of Mushin or "no mind," my approach embraces an openness to the present moment: right here, right now. Rather than constructing narratives or prescribing interpretations, the images function as a form of direct communication that extends beyond language. Echoing the sentiment of "don't tell me, show me," the artworks offer an invitation to experience the vitality, impermanence, and quiet profundity embedded within the everyday.

Land and Freedom

Home is not where you live, but where you belong.

For the dispossessed, the notion of home lives internally, a notion of belonging (Hiraeth) that is not physical, but rather emotive. When the Welsh emigrants departed for Patagonia in 1865, searching for a better life, they knew that they would not return. For those left behind, elusive recollections of lost loved ones remained, and a fleeting image, smell or sound evoked memories of days gone by. Random events, circumstances, and sights can, for no logical reason, transport us from our everyday reality to a place or person far away, separated by distance or time. The image of a map or a continent is also an illusion, as we never view the world as such. It is also only our interpretation of a map and not based on the actuality of geography, which serves to enhance our feelings of uncertainty, transience and the ephemeral nature of existence. Pass this way tomorrow, and it may be gone.

I am an emerging photographer in the first five years of practice. I’m drawn to abandonment & belonging within communities viewed through a photographic, ethnographic & occupational science lens. This image symbolises the need to pull over to refresh & refuel on a journey to prevent burn out. It’s a recommendation for life when we’re navigating the many challenges we face while we strive to reach where we want to be.

Tiredness Kills- take a break

Mengwei Chen is a London-based interdisciplinary artist who graduated from the MFA Fine Art programme at Goldsmiths, University of London, in 2025. Working across photography, painting, installation, and comics, her practice explores themes of ghosts, death, memory, and traces of disappearance.

Still in Motion

This photograph was taken in an abandoned area in the suburbs of China. The horse sculpture still holds the posture of running forward, but the girl riding it is incomplete, with only the lower half of her body remaining. The image is connected to a kind of interrupted movement. What may once have symbolised motion or childhood has slowly turned into a suspended fragment through time and abandonment, as if something moving forward was suddenly left behind. I am interested in this state between movement and stillness, presence and disappearance. The “road” in the image does not physically appear, but exists more as a direction that can no longer be completed, or a movement that only survives as a trace in memory.

I photograph the world at the edge of recognition, where the everyday slips into something quieter and more surreal. My practice explores perception as an active and unstable process, shaped by attention, atmosphere and the quiet thresholds where the familiar begins to feel slightly unreal. The work sits somewhere between conceptual and post documentary photography. I am interested in moments when clarity softens and meaning becomes provisional, allowing feeling to surface before interpretation.

The Shape of Passage

In my debut project "(m)Othersland", currently in it's fifth year of development, my intention of communicating perspective is best demonstrated within it's pages, where my expression was at it's most raw. Through viewing the image and writing the text, I am able to dive down into my own memory, as well as the memory of onlookers, and kickstart both a re-experiencing of life so intrinsic to those who share a similar experience, or the relatability of those who haven't but may connect to something else in the collection of pieces. In this way, the piece "Drive" marks the metaphorical and physical journey taken by all of us when we engage in a communal, associative memory. It is a shared nuance, a nod of recognition across the gallery hall and over the pages, that instates a sense of legacy within something as intangible as an experienced. "(m)Othersland" - an intimate exploration of “a home away from home”, grapples with the duality of belonging and othering commonplace in conversations on diaspora. Whether it is the road that took us here, or the road that takes us back, we must journey through it to reach our intended place of arrival, where our dreams wait.

Drive

I often think about how temporary we are compared to the landscapes around us. Through this series, I explore the relationship between humans and nature, focusing on traces, presence, and disappearance. Sometimes people appear in the photographs, sometimes they don't. Yet their existence can still be felt in the land, in the marks they leave behind, or in the silence that remains after they have gone. For me, these photographs are not only about nature. They are about passing through the world. About being here for a moment and then becoming part of a larger memory. The title The Earth Remembers comes from the idea that the earth witnesses everything. Long before us, and long after us, it continues to exist, quietly holding stories, movements, and histories. Rather than documenting a specific place, this series reflects on our fragile presence within the landscape and asks what remains after we leave.

The Earth Remembers

In the early years of growing up in a separated family, I always needed a place where I could be with myself and dream. My first solution was to hide above wardrobes, under beds and tables, or in cupboards that I could fit comfortably. But it didn’t take my mother or grandmother long to discover my little world where I was hiding to watch the outside world. The only darkness I didn’t fear was my father’s darkroom with a scent of chemicals and magic. Then It was a long period of wandering to find the same feeling. Finally, I found a room that has a tiny hole inside to see all around me while I could be alone with my thoughts. Today I’m still looking and watching from my little hiding space and aspiring to learn and experience people, society and relations. Capital of Loneliness. In my late thirties, I moved to a new country to start from scratch once again. The officer who verified my paperwork said we were born the same day; she was about to retire in a few years. I was starting a new journey. Many people worldwide move in knowing that London is not the land of opportunity, but the land of hard work and responsibility. There are over 300 different languages in London. With a diverse community this vast, we are all together but alone on our journey away from home. There is a strange sense of loneliness in this lively and busy city. People seem to be connected to their phones rather than people or the city itself. Loneliness affects the mental health of millions of people, yet many feel ashamed to talk about it. Some studies indicate that an average of 30% of British people are embarrassed to say they feel lonely. That can be a leading factor in preventing people from coming forward and seeking help. To discover the city, I took long walks and photographed people in their daily lives on the street. But instead of focusing on strange or vivid characters, I have chosen to slow down and take my time. Wondered how people deal with their loneliness or do they even realise how it affects their life quality; I waited for the moment to place them in a story, theirs or mine. In 2019 during a walk near the Regents Canal, I saw a man walking with one hand on the bushes. He suddenly stopped and leaned against a specific leaf. I realisedstopped and leaned against a specific leaf. I realised that he was blind and whispered some words to this leaf. He was caressing the leaves. At first, I thought he was on the phone call. But as I passed them, with no sign of a wireless headset or phone, I noticed that he was talking to a leaf. Moments like this teach a lot about how necessary it is for people to share their feelings and ideas with someone. What began as a personal journey of adaptation has turned into images that resonate with overwhelmed people in a fast-paced city to question our loneliness.

Capital of Loneliness