Americas and Oceania Collections blog

The Eccles Institute nurtures relationships with creative practitioners through the Eccles Institute & Hay Festival Global Writer’s Award, our Visiting and Creative Fellowship programmes and our public engagement activities. An artist we work closely with is photographer James Clifford Kent, who has been using the British Library both as a source of inspiration and a creative workspace for many years.

James Clifford Kent in the British Library Newsroom

When did you start coming to the British Library? What brought you here? 

Studying at the University of London, I regularly visited the Senate House Library and discovered photobooks there but quickly moved on to the British Library in search of books that were harder to find. It became my go-to place for developing ideas for creative projects—somewhere I associated with getting stuff done. 

London is an exciting place, and I’m easily distracted, but I was struck by the peace and quiet of working in the various Reading Rooms, and that helped me to focus. I’d leave my phone in a locker and found I could be much more productive. It did feel like there was a world of knowledge available to you and that sense of discovery was exciting! You’d order some books, leave the Reading Room for a coffee, and they’d be waiting for you on your return. 

Some of the items consulted by James Clifford Kent in the Reading Rooms.

It felt very different to libraries I’d visited growing up—where you’d browse and see what they have on the shelves. Here you could be specific and go down the rabbit hole exploring a particular area of interest, and the resources were all there at your fingertips. I remember finding books I’d only ever read about that were considered some of the greatest photobooks of all time, such as A La Plaza con Fidel by Cuban photographer and cinematographer Mario García Joya, also known as ‘Mayito’ (BL shelfmark: Cup.24.q.14).¹ Just holding the books—getting properly immersed in their pages, design and layout—was completely different from seeing them online, and it brought them to life. Those early experiences with books shaped my own ambitions and I set off on my own journey determined to make pictures that would eventually sit alongside some of those great works. 

That’s what initially brought me to the British Library, but I kept returning with various projects. I wrote my book, Aesthetics and the Revolutionary City (Palgrave, 2019) in Humanities 1, and I’m certain it wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for having that space to work. But it’s not always about being able to focus—one of the biggest draws about the British Library is being surrounded by people working on all these incredible projects, including some really well-known artists and writers. I’ll never forget looking up and seeing the late, great Benjamin Zephaniah and feeling properly inspired!  

How do you use the Library's collections and how have they informed your practice? 
 
A friend recently described the photobook as the purest form of photography, and I think that’s true. It’s how I first found my way into making pictures —through dusty, battered books by photographers like Robert Frank, Diane Arbus, and Walker Evans. There are places all over London where I draw inspiration from photobooks — from The British Library to the Bookstore at The Photographers’ Gallery, and labs like Photofusion and Rapid Eye. Visiting these places not only means developing ideas/projects but also staying up to date with new work, making new connections and keeping in touch with the community. 
 
I’ve found that the British Library can be all these things and more—a creative space that I’ve often described to artist friends as a sort-of giant mood board. It’s easy now to capture ideas and inspiration with your smartphone camera — snapping pictures of books, pages — and you don’t need a lot of time. You might have a huge stack of books in front of you, but you can quickly go through them, capture what you need, and expand your creative archive. 

Further books consulted by James Clifford Kent.

Over the years I’ve created a photo journal. I’m a visual person, so it’s been helpful to refer to books I’ve consulted at the Library. These are sometimes pictures of the books (or videos of me turning the pages) in situ, alongside my notebooks full of scribbles. These pictures transport me back to the research I’ve done for different projects and remind me what’s inspired me along the way. 
 
I’m currently working with GOST Books on my first photobook and I’m looking at more books than ever! The first thing I did when I began working with the GOST team was visit the British Library and take out all their books. Carving out time for more focused work (planning, writing and editing photographs) has become increasingly difficult. But the Library gives you a way to shut out the noise and step away from the hustle and bustle—it’s like a little oasis in the middle of London. 

Can you describe a typical day for you in the British Library Reading Rooms? And what is your advice for any creative person considering coming to the Library?  

Visiting the British Library is an important part of my week and people know they’ll usually find me there developing projects on research days (when I’m not lecturing, taking pictures, working in the lab etc). I know a lot of people that work at the Library—some have followed my projects from inception through to completion and in many ways they’re an important part of my creative journey. 
 
But for some people, libraries can feel exclusive and/or restrictive, and I’m passionate about exploring how we can shift perceptions around space like the British Library, making them more open and accessible. There’s potential to break down barriers and create a more inclusive environment for learning and discovery. I always say that for people unfamiliar with the space, it helps to have someone guide you. The restrictions don’t seem as intimidating when you understand how things work and that’s when you begin making connections! For artists, it’s a great way for exploring connections and doing research—you’ll always stumble upon things you weren’t expecting. 
 
In an AI-driven digital era, books feel more important than ever. But I’ve found that my students don’t engage with physical books like before, so I’ve started taking photobooks to lectures—big stacks of them—so students can properly immerse themselves in them in the way that was intended.

Any favourite collection items or exciting finds you’d like to share? 
 
There are several comprehensive volumes on the development of the photobook, including Martin Parr and Gerry Badger’s The Photobook: A History trilogy (BL shelfmark: m05/.17063), and those are a good place to start.² But the British Library also has an incredible collection of magazines and journals. 
 
For my recent project ¡No hay más na’! (There’s nothing left, 2022–)—focusing on the challenges faced by Cubans amid a worsening humanitarian crisis—I began researching the work of British photographers who’d documented marginalised communities at home and abroad. This helped me to think about ethics and positionality, specifically insider–outsider perspectives. 
 
I found a photo essay by Colin Jones published in the Sunday Times Magazine—later published as The Black House by Colin Jones (BL shelfmark: LC.31.b.3706)—which documented the lives of young black people at Harmabee (a North London hostel), which served as both a refuge and a site of racial identity formation amid societal alienation and prejudice in 1970s London.³ The work is really powerful—and I found myself down the rabbit hole again. It felt like I was having a sort of imaginary dialogue with this celebrated photojournalist as I thought about everything from storytelling to sequencing. 
 
There have been lots of moments like this at the British Library and I’m very grateful for the way they’ve shaped my practice.

References

1. Fidel Castro, A la plaza con Fidel: Un ensayo fotográfico de Mayito. La Habana: Instituto del Libro, 1970. (Cup.24.q.14) 
2. Martin Parr and Gerry Badger, The Photobook: A History. London: Phaidon, 2004-2014. (Vol. 1: m05/.17063; Vol. 2: LC.31.b.2932. & m06/.42511; Vol. 3: LC.31.b.13620) 
3. Colin Jones, The Black House. Munich; London: Prestel, 2006. (LC.31.b.3706 & fm06/.1541.) 

James Clifford Kent (@jamescliffordkent) is based in London and lectures on visual culture at Royal Holloway, University of London: https://www.jamescliffordkent.com.