FERGUS RILEY

How Little Weight the World Has

We are familiar with flight being the ultimate symbol of freedom and escapism. To feel free from constraint, to soar over obstacles and control our own fate. But to actually fly has always been out of reach, rather an experience which lives in our dreams and in fantasy. Since Da Vinci’s Codex on the Flight of Birds in 1505, innovators have been trying to realise this fantasy. Forever chasing archetypal freedom; the bird who can fly as they wish and move as they will. Soon enough, advancements in technology offer a makeshift solution. The light bulb provided night vision, the telephone provided long distance communication, and the aeroplane provided flight. When we feel these fantasies are realised, our repeated exposure to them renders them un-fantastic. Humanity detaches from previous achievements and progresses to pursue the next mission in an almost mono-manic fashion. Those who are left behind, be it as casualties of war or from space exploration, are remembered for their service to the humanity they were part of. As if their death was inevitable in the name of human progression. We epitomise this desire in our everyday lives by an innate hunger to explore the universe and to discover it’s truths. In modernity, tourists embody an itch to touch every corner of the earth; to take a photo, as if ticking it off the never-ending list, then move on to the next. History gets forgotten; mutated by the limiting records which shape our understanding. The present is only a means to support what’s to come. Our concern, always, lies in the future. The act of photographing follows this same structure; to preserve a present moment, with the future in mind. Like the tourist, the photographer’s aim is to explore, to utilise mobility, to collect small fragments of the world and then return to sanctuary before the next pursuit. 

My paternal grandfather was a Spitfire engineer in the Second World War, and my maternal grandparents used their early retirement to travel extensively. Despite their contrasting experiences involving aviation, they both spoke about these times as if they were the best of their lives. How Little Weight the World Has is an exploration into the historical ambition of air travel, habituation and the urge to be constantly conquering new territory. Photographs of the aviation enthusiasts are blended with fragments of my ancestral history in search for a deeper understanding of how our symbolic relationship with flight has detached from reality.