The ancient myth of Icarus, with its timeless themes of ambition and hubris, has found an emotionally evocative interpretation in Rhys Frampton's Drowning Light exhibition at Copeland Gallery. This cross-disciplinary collaboration, featuring Royal Ballet dancer Matthew Ball and composer Guy Chambers, created an intimate and immersive experience weaving together the arts of photography, film, dance, music, and sculpture. On a crisp, sunny afternoon inside Kensington Gardens, I had the pleasure of meeting Rhys to discuss the creative process behind this compelling work.
Suleiman:
Congratulations on your recent Drowning Light exhibition! I'm so glad I was able to see it twice because on my second visit I noticed details I hadn't seen the first time. I found it a deeply contemplative and artistically inspiring experience. How was the reception?
Rhys:
Thank you! The reception was incredible. Over 500 people attended our opening, and we had lots of wonderful feedback throughout the three days it was up. A lady visited on four separate occasions to look at one particular image. She said she woke up thinking about this image and then needed to come back and see it again.
Suleiman:
Wow! Do you know which image that was?
Rhys:
Yes, it was “Angel of the Sun”.
Suleiman:
Is that the one where Matthew has many outstretched arms like a Buddhist statue?
Rhys:
(Laughs) Yes, that’s it.
Suleiman:
That's a wonderful image. 'Vaulting Ambition' resonated with me the most. Matthew's acrobatic pose, almost a mid-air suspension, gives the illusion of soaring, of defying gravity. The title feels like a direct reflection of Matthew—a fiercely ambitious artist, who is always challenging himself as a performer and striving to reach new heights.
Rhys:
That's a wonderful observation! Matt and I spent quite a bit of time on the titles so I'm glad you like them. It has been intriguing to see which images people have gravitated to, and how they have interpreted them.
Suleiman:
On the final day of the exhibition I came with my friend Nina who you met. Her favourite image was “Allure of the Sky”, because of the way Matt’s hands and fingers are illuminated.
Rhys:
Ah yes, that's one of my favourites too.
Suleiman:
This was your first solo-exhibition and it explored the Greek myth of Icarus. Is Icarus the myth about a boy who flies too close to the sun?
Rhys:
Yes, exactly. The story is about a father and son who are imprisoned within a labyrinth by King Minos of Crete. The father, Daedalus, a highly skilled architect, crafts wings out of wax and feathers for their escape. He warns his son not to fly too low, as the sea would dampen his wings, or too high, as the sun would melt them. But in his youthful excitement, the boy ignores his father’s warnings, flies close to the sun, and then melts his wings, plunging to his death.
Suleiman:
It’s quite a savage ending! What connects you to the myth of Icarus?
Rhys:
This story resonates with me because I had a rise as a young, upstart fashion photographer. At a certain point I got a little too big for my boots when I was flying around the world. At the time I thought I was invincible, but the universe, in one way or another, teaches you that you're not. I think Icarus speaks to the universal struggle with ego and the consequences of overreaching.
Suleiman:
It's a myth that has captivated artists for centuries, from Ovid's Icarus story in his epic poem, Metamorphoses, to Henri Matisse's cut-out work, from his "Jazz" series, which creates a stylised and abstract interpretation of Icarus's fall.
Rhys:
Yes that's right. I think it's a poignant myth for us to explore today, given that everyone battles their ego on a daily basis, regardless of who they are.
Suleiman:
I've never thought about that but I guess it's true... so how did this ambitious project come about?
Rhys:
The initial spark came from an editorial shoot I did with Matthew Ball in 2018. This was our first encounter, and we immediately bonded over our shared love for photography. I work primarily with film, so I had all my film cameras laid out, and Matthew asked me lots of questions about them. His inquisitive and creative mind was stimulating for me as I love to immerse myself in the energy of the person I’m photographing. During the shoot something quite unexpected happened…
Suleiman:
What was that?
Rhys:
I found myself subconsciously mimicking Matthew’s movements while photographing him. He would step to the side and I’d step with him. At one point the stylist turned around to me and said, “Rhys, you know, every time he moves his leg, you seem to move your leg in the same way?” Matthew and I laughed, and then as we become aware of this “pas-de-deux” we decided to keep going with it.
Suleiman:
It sounds like you enjoyed the physicality of photographing a ballet dancer.
Rhys:
Yes definitely. Dancers like Matt have such a sensitive understanding and awareness of the human body down to the finest finger movement. For years, I'd been interested in exploring the relationship between movement, photography and music. I envisioned capturing a dancer's motion and then exhibiting the photographs alongside music to enhance the emotional impact of the images. I mentioned this to Matthew, and he was enthusiastic about the idea, so this was how the project started.
Suleiman:
So once you and Matthew decided you were going to collaborate, how did you get the “ball” rolling?
Rhys:
(Laughs) Well, we brainstormed ideas and spent time together. Matt and I went to see a photographic exhibition at Somerset House and the Bill Viola & Michelangelo: Life Death Rebirth exhibition at the Royal Academy. Our first challenge was to find the right music for our project.
Suleiman:
How did you start searching for music?
Rhys:
It happened quite organically. I was very fortunate to meet the composer Guy Chambers at Abbey Road Studios. I was commissioned to photograph Guy for a cover and during the shoot he was sat by this beautiful Steinway piano. I told him about my project with Matthew, explaining that its loosely a ballet and that we were looking for some original music. I asked Guy if he would be interested in working with us and without hesitation he said, “Rhys, I’m in.”
Suleiman:
That’s very cool. So now you, Matthew Ball and Guy Chambers are working together on this project as a trio?
Rhys:
Yes. By then, they had both seen my work and were familiar with my working environment. We felt it was important to create a shared experience by visiting each other's creative spaces. So, Guy and I went to watch Matthew perform The Swan in Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake at Sadler’s Wells.
Suleiman:
That’s amazing! I’ve seen the production but not with Matthew playing the lead role. How was it?
Rhys:
It was just divine. During this performance, Guy turned to me and said, "Rhys, I'm just getting Icarus."
Suleiman:
Did Guy say why the performance made him think of Icarus?
Rhys:
Maybe it was Matt’s movements or his white feathered costume. I’m not sure. But when Guy got back home that night, he told me that a song on the theme of Icarus came into his head.
Suleiman:
When did you get to hear it?
Rhys:
A few days later. Matt and I visited Guy's studio which is the ultimate music paradise. It has got everything – rare synthesisers, a Wurlitzer electric piano, a mixing desk from Abbey Road Studios, guitars, amazing photography up on the walls. Guy sat down at the piano and played the opening sequence of what would become "The Predicament," the first part of our film. The melody just flowed from him. It was a profound experience. Matt and I had to prop our jaws up because it was one of those pinch me moments.
Suleiman:
It sounds like this was a transformative moment for all three of you.
Rhys:
Definitely. It also felt like our friendship as a group was beginning to grow which I think is hugely important for any kind of artistic collaboration. We could feel that we were in the midst of creating something truly special together.
Suleiman:
What exactly were you trying to create at this point? There seems to be many strands to this project with the film element, the photographic element, the live performance element…
Rhys:
It began with photography, but as we added music and explored the narrative of Icarus more deeply, the project naturally evolved. We started focusing on how to tell the story visually, which led us to film. So it snowballed from a photography idea to a full film production. Matt began to choreograph a solo-dance on himself inspired by Guy’s music. It was fascinating to come into the studio at Royal Opera House and see sections of movement that Matt was developing.
Suleiman:
Your Drowning Light film is stunning. I saw it for the first time during your exhibition last month, but it premiered during a live event you hosted with Matt at Royal Opera House in 2022.
Rhys:
Yes. Drowning Light is 16 minutes long and has three parts: The Predicament, The Promise and The Pride. It features Matthew Ball’s solo-dance inspired by the story of Icarus and an original score by Guy Chambers.
Suleiman:
When you were preparing to make this film, were there specific moments in the Icarus myth that you wanted to visually translate?
Rhys:
We deliberately avoided being too literal with the Icarus story. We could have relied on the classical imagery—the tower, the wings, the escape—but that would have left no room for the viewer's interpretation. We wanted to create a blank canvas, allowing people to bring their own experiences and understanding to the film. That's where I think the intrigue lies—in letting the viewer create their own personal narrative.
Suleiman:
It's fascinating you say that, because my friend Nina noticed how Matt's exceptionally defined back muscles gave the impression of wings. I think your decision to exclude superficial elements such as props and sets encourages the viewer to focus on subtle details, such as Matthew’s wing-shaped scapula, which may have otherwise gone unnoticed.
Rhys:
I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. Of course, in the story of Icarus, there are two people, the father and the son. So, we had challenges on that front. But we felt that if we leaned too much into being descriptive, it would become...I'm looking for the right word...
Suleiman:
Affected?
Rhys:
Yes, affected. It wouldn't have been as refined. We wanted the viewer to be able to form their own images of the story and what it means to them. I think that's what art should do.
Suleiman:
I completely agree and I think you achieved this beautifully. In fact, earlier today, I came across a passage that Royal Ballet dancer, Isabella Gasparini, had written on her website blog following your Drowning Light premiere in 2022. Can I read it to you?
Rhys:
Yes please do.
Suleiman:
She wrote, “The last event I attended at the Linbury Theatre showcased the wonderful collaboration between Matt Ball, photographer Rhys Frampton, and composer Guy Chambers. Drowning Light is a retelling of the myth of Icarus and Matt's first short film. I was in awe of his creativity and the result of combining the expertise of three artists who learn from each other and expanded the boundaries of their own fields, what a wonderful way to develop and transpose one's own artistic skills.”
Rhys:
Oh, that's beautiful. That makes me emotional.
Suleiman:
Do you think that her words capture the essence of Drowning Light as an artistic project?
Rhys:
Yes absolutely. And that was the beautiful thing about the exhibition, that I was able to share my photographs and this film with people. It was a huge undertaking, a real investment, to bring all those elements together—the film, the photography, the music, the choreography—and present them as a cohesive body of work. You know, as artists, we constantly question ourselves. 'Is this good enough? Could I have done more?' There is a constant self-doubt. So, to stand there and see people connect with it, to hear comments like Isabella's, it’s incredibly moving. It validates all the hard work and the risks we took. People from all walks of life, even those who weren't familiar with ballet or contemporary music, came up to me during the exhibition and said they were touched. That's what art should do, isn't it? Resonate with people and make them feel something.
Suleiman:
You briefly mentioned the challenges of staging this exhibition which I know you have also self-produced. It’s a huge commitment to take on. Did you also feel energised by this pressure?
Rhys:
I see it as a unique opportunity to grow as an artist and to connect with like-minded people. In my work as a fashion photographer, I’m not interested in turning up to take a photograph with no substance. Everything I do is about pushing the boundaries and treading into unknown waters.
Suleiman:
Can you explain this in a bit more detail?
Rhys:
Let me give you an example. In commercial photography, there's a certain system. Assistants often set up the lighting, aiming for what they call the 'sweet spot.' But I'm not about that. I prefer a single light source, like the sun, and I'm more interested in emotion than perfect illumination. So, when I come in to shoot, I re-adjust the light so that it is just outside that 'sweet spot.' It surprises my assistants, but I want to capture something unexpected, something raw. I want to be moved by what I see.
That's how I approach all my work, including Drowning Light. I'm not interested in predictable results. I want to explore the edges, where things are uncertain. That's where the beauty lies, for me. It's about pushing boundaries, taking risks. I'm the kind of photographer who'll hang off a cliff or wade into the ocean if it means capturing the emotion I'm after. I'm driven by that sense of awe, that surprise, that moment of 'Ah, look!' You can't get that by playing it safe.
Suleiman:
There is a very particular atmosphere that you have created with these photographs which reminds me of the Japanese photographer Hiroshi Sugimoto. Both your works have this deep sense of austere beauty. Your Icarus images are all black and white. They all feature a black background and a black frame. It's very striking in a kind of Japanese minimalist style.
Rhys:
It's interesting you mention Japan. The aesthetic of simplicity and satori – sudden enlightenment – is something I deeply admire. I actually considered very ornate frames, hand-crafted wooden ones with intricate corners. But ultimately, I felt a simple black line was all the images required. It was about stripping everything back to the essence, much like the process of creating a print in the darkroom – refining, dodging, burning, until you reach that final, pure image. That's the feeling I wanted on the wall.
Suleiman:
What one piece of advice would you give to a visual artist or someone who is curious about photography or film?
Rhys:
There's something eye-opening about seeing your work on a larger scale. We're so used to consuming images on our phones at an alarming rate. But as an artist, you need to experience your work as it was intended. Take your film, or your photographs, and project them onto a large screen. Rent a projector if you have to. You'll see nuances, emotions, and details you'd never notice on a small screen. It's like the moment you frame a print and hang it on the wall, adding light – it comes alive. I spent four years with these images, but even still, projecting them revealed new layers. That's where the real magic happens.
Suleiman:
How do you see the future of this project developing?
Rhys:
There's a sense that Drowning Light has a lot of potential for further development. We're exploring the possibility of adapting it for the stage, perhaps as part of a triple bill or even a standalone production. This could open the door to collaborating with female dancers and potentially expanding the project to other myths, which is an exciting prospect. We're also working on a photography book, aiming for release around late March or early April, and we're in discussions about a special performance at the Royal Opera House.
Beyond that, we've captured a wealth of material – studio sessions, rehearsals, even the darkroom printing process – for a documentary. It's important to share the creative journey, the process, because that’s what people are really drawn to. It's a way to consolidate our own learning, and it adds another layer to the project, making it more than just a performance or exhibition.
Suleiman:
This sounds innovative! I’m curious to see how Drowning Light evolves and will look out for your Drowning Light book when it’s published. Rhys, thank you very much for your time.
Rhys:
It has been my pleasure. Thank you, Suleiman.
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