It’s almost two years since I first met photographer Harley Bainbridge and that was for an editorial piece I was writing at the time. I’ve just looked up the copy for that piece and it starts: ‘I wasn’t expecting a discussion about philosophy when I talked to ‘new kid on the block’ Harley Bainbridge.’ This time when I met with Harley I was maybe more prepared.

 

Again in that editorial I quoted Harley about a book of photographs which he took (‘Disposable cameras from Boots’), dating back to when he was 14, over a quarter of a century ago. “I keep them because although they don’t mean anything to anybody else, they capture a significant moment in time.” I jumped off the Met at Holt Town and walked to Pollard’s Yard in East Manchester. A bohemian container village which, I have to confess, I didn’t know existed until Harley invited me down there. He has only called photography his ‘profession’ for a handful of years, coming to the sector later on in his life. I.e. no traditional, recognised training. In those years he has built up a successful practice, but underlying his commercial work is a deep social curiosity. Within five minutes of me arriving and as soon as the kettle had boiled, he was talking about August Sander, a pioneering German photographer who, during the first half of the 20th century set out to document what he called ‘typologies,’ attempting to document society by socio-economic backgrounds: aristocrats, farmers, skilled tradesman, artists, the city, the woman, classes & profession and ‘the last people.’ 

 

Harley himself is working photographically on a ‘typology.’ Dog walkers, whom he meets regularly walking his own dog. The dog walkers he meets, he told me, are intrigued by the project and only too willing to be photographed…with their canines of course. And as a variation he showed me a series of photographs of one specific street corner in Manchester town centre, fixed camera position, with the intention of documenting passers by over a long period of time and seasons. This will either be a book or an exhibition of ‘typology’ in one location. 

 

But we soon got on to the reason Harley had wanted to have a chat. He fulfilled a commercial commission earlier this year, photographing an event organised by Salford based charity ‘The A World.’ The charity, founded in 2019, supports families with autistic children and adults, along with fund raising through community stores. Harley felt comfortable communicating with the children and families and, he told me, they felt comfortable with him being around and pointing a camera. Work has continued with ‘The A World,’ but in particular one family, with whom he has spent almost every weekend since that first event. He assured me that the family welcome openness and any awareness that can be created – including using their family name and the name of their son who is autistic – now known as Autism Spectrum Disorder. The family name is Ogden and their son’s name is Jacob. 

 

Now I am far from confident, after just one conversation with Harley, in writing in more detail about Jacob’s diagnosis, or more about the Ogden family – even though they welcome any awareness that can be achieved. If I can be permitted to use one phrase which encompasses all of Jacob’s symptoms that would be neurodivergence. The spectrum is, however, so diverse that autism isn't necessarily intellectually debilitating. Harley showed me an image on screen. It is of one page in a folder; a shot of Jacob holding a hand to the camera lens. Surrounding the folder are pages and pages of diagnosis notes. “I photograph so many situations and circumstances during my times with the family. It’s not all negative, far from it. Every emotion from laughing to crying to exhaustion runs through the times I’m documenting with them. I’m not sure how the images will finally be used. It might be a book, it might be an exhibition…or both. Whatever it takes to create better understanding of autism.”

 

I hope to return to the story of Jacob and the Ogden family when I have a better understanding. But I look forward to the book or the exhibition – or both – which ‘capture significant moments in time.’