INTERVIEW

THROUGH A LENS

Pilgrimage as Practice in the Photography of Alys Tomlinson

With an anthropological approach and deep commitment to her subjects, the award-winning British photographer relays the contemporary power of ancient practices.

Sos Corriolos, Neoneli Sardinia/Sardegna

With an anthropological approach and deep commitment to her subjects, the award-winning British photographer relays the contemporary power of ancient practices.

What does pilgrimage mean today? Fascinated by this question, Alys Tomlinson documents enduring religious and cultural rites across her stunning photographic oeuvre. Shooting in large format and using vintage techniques, Tomlinson slows down the photographic process, embedding within a context in order to know it. Across acclaimed series such as Ex-Voto (2019), Lost Summer (2020) and most recently, Gli Isolani (The Islanders) (2022), she captures – in formal portraiture, detailed still lifes, and emotive landscapes – timeless human devotion to rituals that celebrate cultural heritage and spiritual growth.

This month, Tomlinson is a featured artist at CABIN, a new art space founded by Slowness creative director Lawrence Hazen and photography editor José Cuevas. Located in Kreuzberg off the Landwehr Canal, CABIN hosts rotating exhibitions of visual art and design, a curated shop of editioned works and independent art books, as well as a dedicated space for performance, video and sound art.

CABIN’s inaugural exhibition At the Edge of Everything, included works from Tomlinson’s series Gli Isolani (The Islanders), documenting striking rural folk traditions in Italy.

Following the show’s opening, we caught up with Tomlinson to reflect on the potency of her anthropological approach to photography.

Sos Merdules, Ottana, Sardinia/Sardegna

Andrew Pasquier How did you first get into photography?

Alys Tomlinson As a child, I was terrible at drawing and stupidly assumed that meant I wasn’t an artist. I started out studying English literature and communications. When I finally found photography in my 20s, I realized that it was what I’d been searching for. It melded the rational and technical side of my brain with the creative way I think and look at the world. After a few years in New York, I studied photography at Central Saint Martin's in London, and more recently completed an MA in the Anthropology of Travel, Tourism and Pilgrimage.

AP Wow! That trio of topics combined in one course is intriguing, especially given the sometimes-tenuous link between jet-age travel and historic forms of pilgrimage.

AT Initially it was my interest in pilgrimage that drew me in, yet I learned to appreciate how travel and tourism share with it this idea of a journey. While a package holiday is very different than going off to do the Camino Santiago for six months, there is this sense of escapism in common.

Mamuthone, Mamoiada, Sardinia/Sardegna
Rock formations at Capo Testa/Formazioni rocciose a Capo Testa, Sardinia/Sardegna

AP What is your relationship to pilgrimage?

AT I was brought up in a non-religious household, so at first the idea of pilgrimage was something very alien to me. When I told my family I was going to shoot in Lourdes, the big Catholic pilgrimage site in the south of France, they were puzzled. I am drawn to things that are unknown to me, or to worlds very different from my own. Photography for me involves this sense of exploration and discovery. Of course, I could also find that in London, but there's something that is sparked in me when I'm somewhere that is very kind of alien in ways that I can't understand.

AP Pilgrimage is a powerful notion, but often takes on directly religious undertones. How do you see the role of pilgrimage in contemporary society?

AT We are starting to use the term more loosely, like taking a daily pilgrimage to a coffee shop, or an annual pilgrimage to Glastonbury. The definition has changed, but I still think it’s about finding a deeper sense of yourself, whether that's through music, spirituality, or nature. Pilgrimage is about unlocking something in yourself, and the necessary journey to find that thing. All the time I’ve spent at pilgrimage sites has been transformative to me on a personal and emotional level, but it’s not because I suddenly found God or converted to Catholicism. These journeys gave me space to really think about what I wanted to do in my life; they gave me an opportunity to reconnect with nature away from the big city where I live.

Maschere a Gattu, Sarule, Sardinia/Sardegna

AP What was it like embedding with Catholic pilgrims for your series Ex-Voto if you yourself are not devout? How did you gain your subjects’ trust?

AT Initially, when I went to Lourdes, I very much felt like an outsider - an intruder. I really questioned my intention. To be honest, part of the reason I did the MA in Anthropology was that it allowed me to kind of justify being there for long periods of time. I didn’t want to just rock up for a week; I wanted to delve deeply into thinking about what pilgrimage meant. The way I connected with people in Lourdes wasn't through spirituality or faith, but through having deep sensitivity to what they were doing. I began to understand why people were there and built a kind of empathy.

AP How important for the outcome was it that you took lots of time to really know the context?

AT When I was meeting people in Lourdes, I could say, “oh, I've been here six times already”. It felt like it gave me more credibility. I don't align myself with a lot of the pilgrim’s beliefs, but I very much respect them for their beliefs. The longer I spent at these pilgrimage sites, the more I recognized the spiritual strength that was gained from being there. I witnessed firsthand how these pilgrimage experiences could be transformative for people. I don't mean that suddenly pilgrims leapt out of their wheelchairs and were running marathons, but that people gained strength from being around others who understood what they were going through.

Sa Filonzana, Ottana, Sardinia/Sardegna

AP How do you then try to bring this respect into your photography practice, both technically and artistically?

AT Well, certainly using a heavy, old-fashioned, large-format camera got people immediately interested and engaged since it’s not something you see every day. At pilgrimage sites like Lourdes, you have a lot of people taking snaps on their phones, but then I would rock up with this weird Victorian camera on a tripod. People wonder, “what's going on?” I even put a cloak over my head to use it. It's quite a spectacle! I also think using this difficult old camera forces a kind of reverence in every shot since I must be very careful about how I work with the apparatus. My subjects have to be very patient with me because it's not quick. There’s commitment.

AP A slow engagement.

AT Yes. I’d even say that there’s something quite meditative to the way I use the camera – a certain rhythm that matched what I was experiencing and witnessing at the pilgrimage sites.

AP Your more recent project, Gli Isolani, documents some striking rural folk traditions in Italy that seem similarly out of sync with modernity. Can you explain the name?

AT Most of the photos depict rituals, costumes, and traditions that happen in the untamed, rural parts of two Islands, Sicily and Sardinia, that looked like they were kind of stuck in time. Many are associated with Pasqua, which is Easter. Other traditions depicted in the series are less conventionally religious, and are associated with seasons changing, or particular saints.

The Queen, traditional costume/La Regina, costume tradizionale, Venice/Venezia
Su Beccu e Su Aprarzu, Ollolai, Sardinia/Sardegna

AP Did you research the anthropological history of each celebration?

AT One thing that really interested me was that many of these traditions have no definitive origin. People will argue within the villages about what they represent. I would go to one village and someone would describe the , “Oh, yes, they’re the Diavolo”, the Devil. And then someone else would say, “No, they represent the Old Man of the Village who eats children.” There are contested narratives. These are traditions that have evolved over many centuries, mixing pagan influences, folklore, fables, and fairy tales. They often reflect on binaries like man vs. nature, good vs. evil, and the sacred vs. the profane. This uncertainly is why there’s no explanation for each of the 50-plus images in the Gli Isolani book.

AP The continuity of ancient traditions into the modern day seems to be a reoccurring theme of your work. How do you think about historical time in your photography?

AT I like to create the sense that time is collapsing around the camera and around the image. I'm very careful when I frame an image so that there isn't a car in the background, or someone on their mobile phone. I pick locations where there is no sign of modernity because I want you to almost think that they could be taken in a different era altogether in order to communicate this feeling of timelessness.

I Giudei, San Fratello, Sicily/Sicilia

AP And I’d say that this timelessness feels doubly special when you realize that this tradition is, in fact, still practiced today. What are you working on next?

AT Well, somewhat ironically, my current film project speaks to how reality can intervene into a timeless place. I've spent the past five years working on a documentary feature about a nun who I met in Belarus while shooting Ex-Voto. She is an incredible woman. Although her Orthodox convent is very strict in its routines, it was surprisingly quite open to me coming in. We only just finished filming in Belarus when the war broke out.

AP Tragic. What kind of responsibility do you feel when representing people outside the current of mainstream culture?

AT It's an enormous privilege being welcomed into cultures that I'm not familiar with. I spend months researching and reading; it’s the longest part of my process. I feel it's my duty to learn what I can and enter these spaces with intention.