Joseph Clarkson sounds like he’s from another age, as he talks about free expression and his grandad’s VHS camcorder. “I think I’ve always used creativity like a representational form whilst growing up, as I was constantly posing for the camera,” he recalls, Zooming from his London home. He jumps straight back into the 21^st century as he explains he photographscontemporary stories that epitomise the essence—and hardships—of human experiences. But then, all of a sudden, we’re back again, back to his poignant teen years, times when Clarkson looks like he’s just walked out of, with a pack full of hope. “With time and experience, I’ve come to realise that the two go hand in hand, and that through the art of photography I can help shape and challenge the world around me.”

This suggestion of documentation is echoed in Clarkson’s work, which looks to the complexity of everyday narratives—and the people hailing from all walks of life experiencing it—chronicling a practice within the subtext of intimacy and safe spaces. Perfect for the (not so far off) lockdown moods that clearly invested our lives in the past year, Clarkson’s latest project charts the stories of nine individuals of wide-ranging ages, racial backgrounds and genders, challenging the viewers to open their eyes to a way of life in contrast to their own. The goal? Making for that free-expression feeling he’s had since childhood, conveying it through emotive portraiture. It’s precisely the kind of connection Clarkson’s soft, tender eye is so adept at capturing. Fact is, it’s an inherently intimate experience. “This project, Sticks and Stones, stemmed from the beauty and inclusivity in my parent's circle of friends,” he gleefully reasons. “Our home has always been an open, loving space where no-one was ever judged. Coming from a place where no judgment was held, I had a distorted view of other people's hardships, so I wanted to use this project to not only educate myself but also use the small platform that I have to give people a voice.”

Here, Vogue meets the photographer—and a few of the captured subjects—to share views and hopes.

When did you first begin shooting people in their homes, and why did you feel inspired to do so?

I began exploring this project during my final year at the Manchester School of Art. My home back in Sheffield has always been a safe space for me, my family and friends, where no judgement was held. My parents created such a beautiful space, where people from all walks of life were welcomed no matter their gender, religion, race or sexual orientation.

For a long time, I found it challenging to understand other people's hardships - this wasn't because I was consciously naive or uneducated, but due to a privileged upbringing I had been in a bubble. While at university I met and had conversations with friends and peers who had not had the same childhood experience. It was through these conversations and my desire and need to further educate myself about the world around me that I decided to start the project Sticks and Stones. The idea of safe space is subjective to the individual, so when I invited people to be part of this project, I asked each person to take me to a space that feels like a safe space to them personally, somewhere they can truly be themselves. For many it was their homes, or a location close to home which provided fond memories. It was a beautiful experience to be welcomed into their safe space.

How did you get in contact with the people you shot?

The casting process for this project was really challenging. It took a while to cast the nine individuals I have photographed for the project so far, as I wanted this to show a diverse selection of people from different backgrounds and stages of life. Without the right casting, this project wouldn't be a powerful representation of people from all walks of life. 

I searched through social media, putting casting calls around university and on my social channels, even chasing people down in supermarkets. The casting calls were really helpful as contacts reached out to recommend their family members and friends for the project. Overall, the response I received from people putting themselves forward for the project was beautiful. I have kept the details from many to shoot for the project in the future. 

Do you plan to expand the series in the future? 

I would love to hold a solo exhibition for this project, showcasing 100 different people with 100 different stories to tell. My hope is that when people come to see the show, they will be able to resonate with one or more of the people showcased - and for those who they aren't able to necessarily relate to, it will then spark conversation. My hope is that through this project, we take a moment to open our eyes and develop a better understanding of all of the different, beautiful people around us, and the hardships they face every day. It will trigger difficult dialogues that are particularly necessary in this day and age. Although we are beginning to see change, there is still such a long way to go, and I will endeavour to continue to use the small platform that I have to help those around me feel heard, shine bright and feel beautiful in their own skin. 

Lloyd

“I’m in a safe place when there isn’t a sense of me feeling separate from others or me looking at myself as different. One of the reasons I became a boxer when I came to England is because I didn’t feel safe walking the streets. You had to protect yourself if you were Black and walk around with other Black friends. Now it’s more subtle. But you are still made to feel as though you are an uninvited guest in our own country; however, I love this country because it gave me lots of wonderful opportunities. You know when you are made to feel different, unwelcomed? Maybe that’s why I trained and have the body that I do. Because it makes me feel a little safer. I’ve used my body and people became more respectful towards me. My body has become my safe space. My body has also helped me travel the world and belong to a community (natural bodybuilders) where we are family. We feel like family. So, there are always two sides to the same coin.”

Aoife & Her Mother

“Aoife told me her safe space was at home surrounded by family. It’s where she feels most comfortable and able to be herself. A place where she can be most independent and in control. Aoife is one of two surviving identical triplets born prematurely at 32 weeks who has chronic lung disease and cerebral palsy. This mainly affects her mobility as she is unable to walk independently but doesn’t let that stop her having fun. Despite her disability Aoife is very sociable, loves to chat and sing and seems comfortable in her own skin. On seeing the photos Aoife thought she looked pretty and happy. Lots of positive vibes, capturing her natural self.”

Vicky

“It’s not what I consider a safe space, but who. For me, when my skin was at its worst with severe facial acne (for the second time in my life at a later age) no space was really safe. I regressed to taking jobs where I could work from home, or I just would not work at all. My bedroom was a place that I hid from the world in, moving around my home like a shadow so I couldn’t be seen, and leaving the house came with another set of problems I had to get over. No space was comfortable, particularly my very own body and its skin. But it was the friends around me that became my safe space. It was crucifying for my self-confidence, but the constant love and support from my friends made me stronger and able to cope with the ups and downs of life.”

GiGi

“I would consider my safe space anywhere shared with my chosen family, the ones who make me feel safe enough to open up and show whoever I am or however I am feeling in any given moment without fear of judgement. Sharing intimate emotions with those I love and trust. When I look at these images I feel as though it shows my balance of softness and strength, my ability to show vulnerability whilst maintaining a strong core, and the power I have found in my trans identity having my body and image captured as the years have gone by, and by doing so seeing a fully realised person I didn’t know in my youth could exist.”

Elaine

“To me a safe space is cultivating a mindset that allows you to explore who you are without fixating on people's judgement. It's where you feel comfortable in solitude and be surrounded by people that love you. Growing up in Asia, that fetishizes gender-role culture, it felt liberating to put aside the idea of hegemonic femininity that I had centred around a lot of my beliefs. It was important to show myself conforming to any kind of societal standards is not a prerequisite for success. There was a longing within me to feel safe and valued that propelled me to move to the UK by myself when I was 16 and shaving my head on a whim.”

Acedia

“I consider a safe space to be somewhere where you feel represented, somewhere where you feel comfortable and can take off the mask that many of us often conform to due to different pressures. It has not been easy for me to navigate myself being openly Queer at such a young age, however the world is changing, and every second of my life lived as me regardless of if it is met with acceptance or hatred has been worth it. The universe has a place for you, and do not sacrifice your freedom for anyone. You are not the problem, but the solution, whether you are open and proud or still in the closet your time and place will come.”

Yotti

“Personally, my safe space is when I’m surrounded by people like family, boyfriend or friends. I feel that I can completely be myself around them which resonates with my personal identity because it’s with these people that I go to when I want or need to talk about anything and everything: things that perhaps I wouldn’t usually open up to other people about. Even if they haven’t had the exact same experiences as mine, it doesn’t necessarily matter as they still understand me because they know me inside out so well. My safe space and the people in my life are so important for me to feel a sense of empowerment that I sometimes find too hard to find mentally by myself.”