BJP: You have made most of your projects in your homeland of South Africa, apart from your Angola work. How did the experience of working in Angola shape you as a photographer?
Ractliffe: I’d been working for over 25 years before I first went to Angola in 2007. Curiously, my experience there, five years after the end of the civil war, transported me back to 1980s South Africa. Perhaps the connection emerged given the recent end of the Angolan Civil war. The experience also provoked questions about photography and representing conflict, similar to those I’d had all those years earlier.
I decided to work with medium format, black-and-white film. It had been a while since I had worked that way, and it was something of a relief to return to it, especially the magical experience of rediscovering the image in the darkroom during printing. Each trip was roughly six to eight weeks in duration, and I wasn’t able to process my film until I got home. The approach necessitated a slow and focused mode of looking that, together with the extended and repeated journeys over long periods, echoed how I worked in the early 1980s. I understood better what I had been trying to do all those years earlier. It felt like I’d come full circle.
BJP: When your retrospective opened last October 2020, debates surrounding the enduring issue of racial discrimination and police brutality had intensified across the US. Photography’s role in inciting awareness and change about these issues was also and continues to be in question. Your work tackles a different period of history. What does the exhibition bring to the table when thinking about photography’s role in everything happening now?
Ractliffe: It reminds me of the types of questions people were asking about photography during the 1980s in South Africa when there was an urgent need to speak directly to the social and political events of the time as they unfolded. Often in such moments, photography favours the language of direct address; the unambiguous message, which is very different from the more reflective work that comes afterwards.
I’m interested in the idea of the photograph as a complex yet open-ended space where meanings aren’t fixed but fluid. Questioning the constructs of photographic representation is a concern that underpins every aspect of my practice, whether I am responding in the moment or reflecting on something years later. Photographs are contradictory objects. They provide multiple versions of ‘reality.’ It’s important we challenge how we perceive and receive images. Also, the value of a work does not necessarily depend on its relevance in the moment. Sometimes the process of looking back through pictures and unravelling historical complexity affords us a deeper understanding of things now.
BJP: Your retrospective at Art Institute of Chicago takes the form of a visual road trip, and driving has always been a central part of your process. What do you hope the exhibition communicates about your work and the subjects you have addressed?
Ractliffe: Almost all of my work has taken the form of a journey. These journeys have mostly been on the road, although there have been the odd boat or train rides. Driving is inextricably linked to how I make photographs, and it has been since the very beginning. Pretty much every series featured in the show was made this way, save one that includes a train ride through the Swiss Alps (Snow White, 2002), and another of photographs made in my backyard during the evening after I’d driven home from work (Real Life, 2002-05).
I think of the road as a medium in my work. And in this exhibition, the road also forms something of a spine linking what might sometimes seem like a disparate range of photographic interests and approaches over the years.