Gospel Oak by Leigh Johnson

Pin It
Stairs copy
Photography by Leigh Johnson

The Céline approved artist reveals the stories behind her Gospel Oak photographs

Born in California, now based in London, Leigh Johnson first crossed our radar back in 2008, with her series of hyper-emotional, candid self-portraits in Hard Shoulder, and later in March 2014 when her image of a staircase was used to promote the opening of new Céline store on London's Mount Street. This year, Johnson's new dual project, Gospel Oak, has seen the Yale photography graduate exhibiting at Los Angeles project space, Farago, before releasing her new book of photographs, designed by Peter Miles. Building off the perception of exclusion from people’s private lives, Johnson tears down social barriers, motivated by the desire to understand what it means not to be her. Through casual hangouts with strangers and art made from abandoned mattresses, latex and acrylic, Johnson steps out of the known and into the intimacy of others. Here we present a selection of our favourite works, with accompanying stories by the artist. 

"I met Mikey on 6th Street between Avenue B and C, where we both lived. Mikey’s brother died in a hospital there and he found himself retuning every day even after his brother was gone. I first spotted him lying on the hood of a car basking in the heat of sun on metal. He couldn’t have owned all the cars on the block and probably doesn’t know how to drive, but legs stretched, spine on hood, and foot dangling, Mikey was king. Always the same street, same clothes, different cars, different haircuts."

"I met Miriam on 6th and Avenue D. She was buying a big bottle of bright orange soda. She was ugly and beautiful and I wanted to photograph her. We became friends, happy to collide on 6th street and take photos together. She had never left the city. I was living in East Haven and I asked her if she wanted to come up. We stopped for pizza and a coke on the 95. We left the sweltering city for hot dusty sun, my dog panting the whole way. We drank some cheap alcohol I had, maybe Cointreau – she liked sugary drinks – and then she wanted a beer. The trailer was my neighbour’s, a sweet ratty guy in his 20s. He was married and worked at the local Stop and Shop with the dirtiest cracked fingernails. He asked me to have sex with him a few times."

"Sinking into the familiar weathered blue vinyl seats of yellow taxis hoping to float along the BQE rather than inch past jagged concrete coming out of nowhere, bolts and nuts, American construction. The great expectations of New York City slithering between the built and unbuilt. It’s a city I grew up in and then grew up again in, and probably could return to do some more growing up, the eternal return to the city from JFK. At seven I couldn’t comprehend the excitement of crossing the Triboro bridge, spotting the FDR that I knew we were going to drive too fast along, car ever being whacked about. Shimmery buildings now cascade and stream away, and all those tombstones."

"So much depends on a pink limousine."

"I’ve been filling holes for years. These hollow craters born of pulsating tremors under our soles, seismic shifts originating in some far away land, the clash of scorching summers and blizzard winters, they fill me up. Peering down from the edge I keep wondering if I’d prefer to be inside looking up. The loss of whatever may have been compels me to cover, tape, cement, fill with snow – anything to hide the emptiness. On 1st Avenue and 1st Street, a pink and purple restaurant and the lure of rats, I found a rug someone had thrown away. On a blinking green light I threw the rug over a gaping hole and watched the light turn red, all the taxis speeding over a flimsy leopard rug made me laugh."

The book Gospel Oak by Leigh Johnson (edition of 300) is available to buy at Farago and Claire de Rouen