The blue of the far distance

I looked up towards the stars ever since I remember.

I am not an astronomer - while I can barely name a few constellations and sometimes I confuse satellites for the celestial bodies, stargazing brought me comfort whenever life felt too narrow and patriarchal systems I inhabited were too oppressive. I believe it to be a natural human act to look up and not down while seeking answers, while wondering or looking for an escape.

In times of capitalism and its symptomatic fetish of light, in “The blue of the far distance” I explore the act of stargazing as a tool of gentle emancipation, of accessing space that represents connectedness, belonging and wonder regardless of binary narratives in place, location or systems inhabited.

“The Blue of the Far Distance” first began with not being able to see anything in the sky above. Ironically it was the light pollution and the absence of the starry night that initially made me wonder about stargazing, about what it means to me, what it means to us, as species to not see stars - the view that initially served as a reminder for the human kind about their common ancestry and connectedness.

Who looks up and on what terms?

These questions followed me while I visited amateur observatories where light pollution was too strong to see anything on the sky above, or hand crafted planetariums – some of them in impressive domes, some built in private living rooms, some built on farms, in sheds.

Inspired by the notion of hand crafted planetariums I wonder what it means to create a contained universe of one’s own, on one’s own terms in the most literal sense. What planetariums say about the idea of ownership and in their reproductive nature how do they relate to the idea of photography itself?

“The blue of the far distance” is a hopeful speculation about the place of positive escape accessible and democratically available, a constellation of stargazers, of darknesses and surreal landscapes, of ancient orreries and universes in a human scales, a clash between mundane and sublime.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"Hometown reimagined" With the use of cyanotype originally invented for astronomical purposes I am reimagining my hometown - a light polluted industrial place known for coal mining and steel industry into a place of wonder.

© Emilia Martin - "97% stardust"
i

"97% stardust"

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"Self portrait" Playing with the idea of light pollution, invisibility but also reality / fiction fristion I constructed a self portrait. It is important to me to include myself in the story and to recognise my active role in forming it and therefore questioning and investigating the role of a photographer, particularly as a female maker.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"The Pin and the Lamp" Jan made some black coffee and asked me how did I find the planetarium. "finding this place is just like stargazing" he said "You can look up once or twice and all you see is some splashed stars and not much else, but once you start really looking, really paying careful attention, you discover some things that are hidden, things that are truly special, maybe the things that nobody has ever seen before. This place is exactly like this"

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"The astronaut absent" The figure of the astronaut looks out from one of the oldest projector planetariums in the Netherlands in Amsterdam at the greenery of the park through the glass. While it is common to see fictional or realistic images of astronauts performing cosmic explorations in distant space creating a binary narrative of here and there, we are rarely reminded that the planet we inhabit is too, a cosmic, mysterious body.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"Archival stars" I visited Los Angeles which is one of the most light polluted places in the US in 2015. As the urban legend states, once during the electricity cut the city went completely dark and the milky way appeared back on the sky. The citizens were so frightened by the alien object on the sky that many of them kept on reporting it to the police throughout the night. The stars I used for the collage are a scan from the book published in the 1924 titled "The Book of the Heavens" by Mary Proctor. Mary Proctor wanted to follow the footsteps of her father and become an astronomer, yet it was impossible for her because of her gender. She instead became a great populariser of astronomy writing multiple books about astronomy for both adults and children.

© Emilia Martin - "The Spaces in between" An orrery as a representation of a universe contained, limited and comprehensible.
i

"The Spaces in between" An orrery as a representation of a universe contained, limited and comprehensible.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"The remains of darkness" In the remains of the black coal mine in my hometown in the Eastern Poland, Gliwice which which represents highly industrial environment but also a certain kind of darkness, I created a universe through the act of painting on the negative.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"Industrial planets" Through the clash of the cyanotype image and the medium format film image of industrial landscape I create an image of the Earth as a spatial object - shifting a perspective from familiarity to something distant.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"Eye Pollution" Through the photographic manipulation of an image with the use of the long exposure I explore the theme of what visibility means in the anthropocentric reality I inhabit.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"The Glass Bell" Through my fascination with the mechanical planetariums, orreries and different mikrocosms I ask myself a question: What does it mean to create a universe that is controllable and contained?

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"There's a diamond where the Americans took a first step" Bert Degenaar, a Dutch antique collector with a particular interest in astronomical objects holds a representation of the moon entirely made of gold with a single diamond representing the place of the first steps of Neil Armstrong. The diamond makes me wonder, how much is a human fascination with space focused around conquering it?

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"Puck, Leiden Observatory" In the act of collaboration with Puck, the student of the astronomy in Leiden together we created a portrait of a young woman looking at the universe. Astronomy remains highly dominated by men and inaccessible to women.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"All the Wonderful Skies" Through painting on the negatives on the photographs of starless nights I explore the idea of what it means to build a universe on one own's terms.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"Necks bent backwards" Sebastian is looking up, facing the sky full of stars impossible to see with a naked eye. The image is a collage that through the use of fiction challenges the reality.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"The Ceiling" In the 18th century Eise Eisinga built a hand crafted planetarium on the ceiling of his living room, which served as home for him, his wife and their children. Inspired by the iconic planetarium several Dutch men recreated the planetarium in their own homes, barns, on farms. Through the process of creating the project I visited all of them. The planetarium on the photograph is the newest of them all, built in 2021 near Utrecht.

© Emilia Martin - Image from the The blue of the far distance photography project
i

"Turkey farm" Henk Olthof (1938 - 2010) built two planetariums and observatory along with the Eiffel tower on his farm. The planetarium on the photograph represents the clash of two universes, a domestic farm with chicken fence and a capsule that serves as a transport to another universe.

Latest Projects

Sign up to our weekly newsletter

Stay in the loop


We will send you weekly news on contemporary photography. You can change your mind at any time. We will treat your data with respect. For more information please visit our privacy policy. By ticking here, you agree that we may process your information in accordance with them. This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.