What does it feel like to grow up surrounded by the ocean, to get to know it as a constant companion?

Growing up on a small island like Saint Vincent has really made me very conscious of its ubiquitousness. Even if I am not necessarily spending time in the sea, it’s always in the periphery of my everyday life - whether I’m driving or running a quick errand. I think this has definitely impacted my understanding of the space I inhabit and by extension how I can care for it. The ocean is truly an intrinsic part of my life. I’m always aware of the stark contrast of feeling its absence whenever I travel and visit landlocked places in particular.

Growing up in differently shaped landscapes the idea and understanding of what is perceived as boundaries on one hand and on the other, something that gives us comfort and the boundlessness of a place of longing. 

For instance, someone growing up in the mountains can find freedom on top of a peak and experience the sea as very limiting. How would you describe the impact of the landscape you grew up in on your understanding of freedom and boundaries?

I think the shifting of a boundary first begins in the mind – if we can imagine it, I think it is possible in one way or another. Of course, there are certain physical realities which prevent us from going to certain depths and heights, but even within this limitation people always find a way to go a small step further than the boundary which is really just fear manifested in a particular way. I was fortunate growing up to have open-minded parents who encouraged me to explore the landscape and sea. I think that initial foundation in understanding my own body in relation to my environment really helped me to learn to push myself. Freedom to me is being totally immersed in a situation with no restraint from the social constructs that exist on land. This is why I love the ocean because it is truly a democratic space in this regard. We all have to reckon with the elements and our own vulnerability, regardless of our physical capabilities.

What we found very affecting is that you somehow manage to enclose a certain intimacy in your photographic work, although one of your repeated topics is the absence of something, e.g. in your work “disappearing people”. Presence and absence is a well known topos within photography theory in general. But how would you describe your position towards these antipodes and in relation between human and nature?

I like to think that part of my work creates a feeling of imminence – a sense that something is always on the cusp of happening or has already happened, and we’re just witnessing the aftermath. I think this unfolding moment is what I try to explore. One of the recurring themes I explore in my work is transformation. I think of this in terms of scale, time, and the merging of two seemingly unrelated moments. For example, I’ve extensively documented the event of the explosive eruptions of La Soufriere volcano in St. Vincent. While there is the sheer scale and awesomeness of witnessing such an event, I’m particularly interested in the remnants of the event – in this case my documentation of black sand. Something that is seemingly minuscule in relation to witnessing an ash plume breaking through clouds. However, I believe there is memory that is coded into the remains of an event – our land and seas contain the accumulation or scars of past events. Most recently, I documented the aftermath in the marine environment underwater after Hurricane Beryl devastated our islands in 2024. Sometimes I intentionally remove the human element from my images, but their presence is suggested in the image in subtle ways. When people are included in my images, there is often a masking that I play with where they are shrouded by a shadow, or natural elements like leaves, bubbles underwater, a piece of coral etc.

Would you say that there was a point in your life when you realized that the landscape you grew up in was changing due to human impact, and you actively chose to address this issue in your own work?

Yes, photography has really made me hyper aware of changes. I have records of previous moments to compare to my current reality. When I began doing underwater photography in 2014, I was particularly interested in documenting the reef on the beach I grew up on. While I didn’t have a previous underwater record of how it looked, I had a very vivid recollection of the life that existed there as a child. That memory really compelled me to document the state of what was happening in 2014. Since that moment I have witnessed the reefs go through so many tremendous changes, both good and bad–from coral regrowth, to large-scale bleaching, a volcanic eruption and hurricane. I am less interested in exploring the great unknown, I think there is a lot to explore in my own backyard that can help me get a greater understanding of how climate change is truly impacting my home. While it can sometimes be monotonous, I see tremendous value in returning to a place over and over and just observing. The ocean is an incredibly resilient and fragile place all at once, It’s heartbreaking to witness, but I remain hopeful. 

The climate crisis is having a huge effect on nature and people's lives. We are flooded with photos of natural disasters and their consequences. No one can say “I don't see it, so it doesn't exist”. Do you think that people need to experience the brutal changes to our planet for themselves in order to be aware of them? And to what extent can your photographic work make something more visible?

I think it is human nature to feel less inclined to take action when we don’t have first-hand experience  in a situation. This isn’t to say we have to always experience something to show care and take collective action, but as the saying goes “those who feel it the most know it.” Photography has the power to make people feel. It gives people access to a deeper understanding of realities that they may not directly experience. It doesn’t need to be presented using objective methods always, I think it can take shape in strange, beautiful, dull and devastating ways all at the same time. My intention is to ignite the same curiosity I feel about the world around me in the viewer. When we are able to reimagine our ordinary or overly familiar realities in new ways, I think this is where the possibility for great change can happen. 

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@nadiahuggins
nadiahuggins.com