Portraits of Sabrina – An Exercise in Photographic Therapy

It’s 1125BC; King Locrinus is King of the Britons. His wife, Gwendolen had learned her husband’s infidelity, of the illegitimate daughter born of Germanic Princess Estrildis. Her name was Sabrina, a name violently bestowed upon the very river she was drowned in as punishment for her father’s transgressions.  

The Roman “Sabrina”, its Welsh evolution to “Hafren”, and its modern incarnation, “Severn”, all share one thing; their namesake, and the story that surrounds her, is deeply rooted in betrayal, change, life, and death. 

This story found me one night while I was researching the local riverside locations to visit for some therapeutic photographic excursions. When I read it, I was mesmerised. A tale of such misery and revenge, of affairs and murder, was linked to the riverbanks on which I have lived my whole life.  

Death has always been a source of great anxiety for me. The terminal nature of it. The endless flow of life towards falls from which we can’t escape.  

I know, just the ticket for some light photographic blog reading… 

In short, processing my worries surrounding my life has coloured every artistic endeavour I’ve undertaken, so it occurred to me that my desire to photograph the river, and my journey to come to terms with finality, could go hand in hand in a single project. 

So here was my brief: 

Set about making images, travelling places, and meeting people. Explore the river from top to tip. Journey with friends, work with the cameras I love the most, and explore the beautiful vistas that exist at every wind and wheel of the banks of the Severn. Treat the river as a life being lived. With small beginnings that cascade into tumultuous rapids, that calm and lap in moments of quiet. The river reaches its end, diluting into its maker (whomever or whatever you think that might be – if indeed that is nothing at all) to join the Celtic Sea. 

Partly landscape, partly portraiture, mostly shot on glorious 4×5 sheet film on my Wista Field 4×5 with the Schneider 120mm f/6.8. Along a river that takes its name from macabre mythology, I wanted to photograph the beauty that owes its existence to the Severn; the people, the places, and the stories shaped by its every turn. 

Before I wrap things up, I’ve included a few more photographs I’ve made for the project. 

It’s been a slow three years making Portraits of Sabrina. I have no real deadline, no hard goal except that one day I’d love to turn my labours into a book. For now, though, I think I’ve got some enjoyable years of work ahead of me.  

Sabrina’s story is indelibly carved into the banks of the River Severn; I think the same is true for the people and places encountered beside them…

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