By Emily Silk, Lauren Kammerdiener, Oliver Walter, Kailee Parsons, Josephine Duriez, and Ines Biollay

Emily Silk – St.Art Photography Editor

Photographers relish in the busy, beautiful routine of everyday. They are romanticists; immortalising moments of single time into nostalgic pieces of what we call photographs. Back in March when we received the email urging students to flee home, our familiar life was turned upside down. We were cooped up inside; seeing humanity fall with illness and simultaneously fight for racial and social equality. Watching this plummeting world from the isolated confinement of our homes, what was there to be romanticised? For me, I found photography a wonderful way to appreciate life’s hidden beauty, the beauty that we do not always notice when there are holidays to go on, parties to enjoy, cities to explore. For myself, I found that photographing nature soothed my frustrations of these uncertain times. I asked some of St.Art’s photographers for simply a ‘snapshot of lockdown’.

Lauren Kammerdiener

Lockdown for me meant spending springtime at home, a season I never thought I'd ever again experience in Florida. It's the only time of year there where you can fling windows open without worry for A/C bills, and when the sun is warm and yet not oppressively hot. I spent much of lockdown here, at my window seat, letting the late afternoon light filter over me, often with a book from the stacks just hidden here, absorbing its words as I simultaneously absorbed some sunshine.

Oliver Walter

Lockdown was a profoundly lonely experience, not in a bad way but a constructive way. Rather, it was a chance to break away and explore familiar spaces in the totally new context of a global pandemic and isolation. This film photograph was taken on one of many otherwise uneventful walks outside, but nonetheless represents my new surprisingly close relationship with the spaces I have inhabited for my whole life.

Kailee Parsons

This year has been a series of unfortunate events for me. One bad thing kept happening after another, and my sister eventually decided that the best way to cheer us up would be to get a dog. We were looking at dachshunds on adoption websites when our friend called to say they had found a stray dachshund they couldn’t take care of. They’d called him Bodie, my sister was set on giving him an extravagant name, and at some point, it clicked and we all said, “Baudelaire.” The summer wasn’t remotely what I’d imagined it would be, but I did spend many mornings like this, sleeping in, with a dog standing alert at the end of my bed.

Josephine Duriez

I call this pic 'Do I know why the caged bird sings?' A picture which for me represents what our small town felt like in April 2020. Colour shows in the sky every now and then, peace and silence.

Ines Biollay

At the height of lockdown in April, I found myself scrolling through my camera roll more than usual. Sitting inside for most of the day and with not much else to do, I would drown myself in memories of past summers with friends. This above collage captures the way I began to view my past self through my screen. My eyes would jump from small fragments and bits of myself that I had forgotten. Subway platforms. The night sky over Grand Central Station. Sunflowers. With this collage, I tried to capture the way I saw myself during such a strange time and the way I began to view memories.