Collecting with Emma Witter

We say we ‘build’ collections… But it is building without creating anything new, without transforming matter physically. A collection can be built by placing objects in a different context, with new combinations, alongside different objects, or into different environments.

Emma told me that the objects she is collecting for Tender Gatherings are small enough that they seem insignificant on their own. She photographs modest groupings of matchsticks, shells, radishes, stamps, conkers. She is building a collection of collections.

Emma and I once bonded over an interest in gathering overlooked objects. We spoke about organising some kind of swap shop where we’d lay a table of insignificant found items, and people could bring an object and take something in return. We were interested in what people would take and what they would deem valuable, because different aspects of the material world speak to different people.

What is it to gather? And to gather tenderly?

I have a collection of playing cards which I have grown for 15 years. If ever I find a lone playing card I pick it up, write the date and location on it, some notes about the day or what I’m doing, and add it to my collection.

When I spot a lost playing card in a puddle or on the street, it is like (to use Emma’s word) a glimmer.. It catches my eye and leaps out from the rest of the world. I feel like it’s a gold coin that someone else will surely grab. But of course this isn’t the case because we are all silently spotting different things - a wonderfully shaped stone, a seed pod, the pattern on a rock. We might even recognise something that we know will bring a friend joy, and keep it for them. The act of gathering is universal.

To me there is something important about finding not only beauty, but protectiveness, connection and affection towards inanimate objects. These feelings we often reserve for animals and humans. Emma told me that Tender Gatherings is special because it’s something you do that isn’t about bettering yourself. This point-less task of communing with objects, of looking out for them and appreciating them. There is something quite tender about that.