When I first heard about Polly Samson’s new photography exhibition, Between This Breath and Then, I was immediately intrigued. Not just because she’s the wife and creative partner of David Gilmour, the legendary Pink Floyd guitarist, but because the exhibition promises something far more intimate than your typical rockstar showcase. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Samson, primarily known as a novelist and lyricist, has seamlessly transitioned into the visual medium, using photography to capture the essence of Gilmour’s latest album, Luck and Strange. This isn’t just a collection of behind-the-scenes snapshots; it’s a deeply personal exploration of creativity, partnership, and the often unseen moments that shape art.
One thing that immediately stands out is the way Samson frames her subjects. Her background as a writer is evident in the narrative weight of each image. Take, for instance, the portrait of Gilmour and their dog reflected in a misty landscape. It’s not just a picture; it’s a story. The use of light—often extreme, like candlelight in a recording studio—adds a layer of intimacy that feels almost voyeuristic. Personally, I think this is where Samson’s work shines: she doesn’t just document; she invites you to feel the atmosphere, the unspoken trust, the quiet exchanges that define a decades-long creative partnership.
What many people don’t realize is how rare it is for someone like Samson, deeply embedded in the music world, to step behind the lens with such intent. Her photographs aren’t just about capturing moments; they’re about capturing emotion. The synopsis for the exhibition mentions a ‘definite emotion that cloaks the work, deeply and sometimes darkly.’ This raises a deeper question: How much of the artist’s own emotional landscape is reflected in these images? In my opinion, Samson’s dual role as collaborator and observer gives her a unique perspective—one that blurs the lines between authorship and presence.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the image titled Muse and Magpie. It’s a photograph that begs for a story, and yet, Samson leaves it open to interpretation. This, to me, is the mark of a true artist: she doesn’t hand you the meaning; she invites you to find it. What this really suggests is that Samson’s photography is an extension of her storytelling voice, a way to explore themes of identity, creativity, and the shared spaces between two artists.
If you take a step back and think about it, this exhibition is more than just a celebration of Gilmour’s album; it’s a testament to the power of collaboration. Samson and Gilmour’s partnership has spanned decades, from Pink Floyd’s The Division Bell to Gilmour’s solo work. What this exhibition does so beautifully is pull back the curtain on that process, revealing the quiet moments of creation alongside the explosive energy of performance. It’s a reminder that art isn’t just about the final product; it’s about the journey, the trust, and the shared vision.
From my perspective, Between This Breath and Then is a masterclass in how to elevate a medium. Samson’s photography isn’t just about capturing light and shadow; it’s about capturing the essence of what it means to create. Her work challenges us to think about the role of the observer, the artist, and the collaborator. It’s a deeply personal yet universally relatable exploration of art and partnership.
As I reflect on this exhibition, I can’t help but wonder: What does it mean to document someone else’s creative process while being an integral part of it? Samson’s photographs don’t just answer that question; they invite us to ask it of ourselves. Whether you’re a fan of Pink Floyd, a photography enthusiast, or simply someone who appreciates the beauty of collaboration, this exhibition is a must-see. It’s not just about the music or the images—it’s about the stories we tell and the connections we make along the way.
