1995 - Talya. When preparing for her photograph to be taken, Talya asked that I let her apply her own make-up and choose her outfit; her parents were willing to go along with this. Living in a home with no television, in a rural Devon hamlet, her childhood was relatively free from outside influences. However, she did have a child's plastic make-up table in her room which she would use when dressing-up. On the day, she donned an old nightdress of her mother's (wanting to model as a princess), found an imitation pearl necklace and some rings, and then applied some make-up. She also chose her poses. When I took the resulting 12 ins x 16 ins print of this image to show her parents, Talya took one look at it, threw her hands over her eyes, and ran out of the room, shouting that it was disgusting. Talya clearly recognised that there was something very adult and rather disturbing in how she had presented herself to camera, and yet, she was neither old enough, nor sufficiently mature to identify what troubled her. I was aware of this, but I was also conscious of its beauty as an image of a young girl. A dichotomy indeed.
I mention this because it's important. I have always be drawn to photographing children, having two sons myself. In fact, the subject of my dissertation had been 'The Representation of Children in Photographic Portraiture'. Back then, as a mother of two boys, I had become increasingly concerned about images of children, that went way back to those taken by Lewis Carroll in the mid-19th century, some by Sally Mann and others by Graham Ovenden, particularly if they were staged. A photographer has a responsibility not to exploit children for his or her own gain. Talya's parents loved the image. Today, Talya is in her thirties, so I feel no qualms in now putting this image online, likewise Talya 2.