“Ensnaring the Moment“, the title itself hums with a resonance that speaks to the very heart of what draws me to both poetry and photography. I imagine it delves deep into that intangible space where a single frame or a perfectly chosen word can crystallise an entire universe, much like how a scent can instantly transport you back to a specific childhood afternoon. This book, I feel, articulates that shared, almost symbiotic dance between the two mediums, exploring how each, in its own visceral way, can peel back the layers of the mundane to reveal the profound. To truly capture a moment, whether in light or in language, is to wrestle with impermanence, to hold onto a whisper before it fades into the vast, churning river of time, a challenge I find myself constantly grappling with in my own work. I have always believed that the best photographs are poems without words, and the most impactful poems paint vivid pictures, and this volume masterfully unpacks that very truth, offering new ways to consider the quiet power of observation.

Poetry has, in fact, always been a significant thread woven through the tapestry of my family’s life, stretching back generations. My granda Tommy, for instance, a Navy man fighting in World War II, sent a poem home to my grandma in 1944, four years before they were married, about how much he missed her and longed for home in Scotland. Then, in the early 90s, before the internet boom, my dad would fill notebooks with his own poetry while working offshore. I even dabbled myself, publishing a couple of poems a month on my old personal website when I used to write comic books. More recently, a mere eight years ago, I travelled down to Edinburgh to watch my daughter compete in the finals of “I Heart Poetry Scotland”. From receiving my first Edgar Allan Poe book in the late 80s to still avidly watching spoken word performances on YouTube and TikTok, poetry has consistently been a part of my life, a deep seated connection that makes a book like “Ensnaring the Moment” feel less like a review and more like a homecoming.

Leah Ollman’s masterful editing of “Ensnaring the Moment” has brought forth a collection of poems that truly encapsulate the staggering, almost visceral impact photographs wield over our individual and collective consciousness. This anthology is far more than a mere gathering of verses; it is a profoundly thoughtful collection that invites us to delve into the very fabric of how we remember, how we feel, and, most crucially, how we truly see the world around us. It not only expands the beautiful tradition of ekphrastic poetry, that evocative art of writing inspired by visual works, but it also serves as an unfettered act of astute criticism and a lyrical, almost soulful, foray into the deeper currents of photo theory. Each carefully chosen poem within acts as a potent verbal portal, drawing you into the visual, and in turn, the visual becomes a transformative gateway to the past, to an unrecognised side of the familiar, to the profound mystery of the other, and, ultimately, to the very depths of the self.

Ollman’s introductory essay delves into the deep affinities between photography and poetry, highlighting their common impulses, to compress time, distil experience, mine memory, engage the fleeting moment, and bear witness. It is this exploration of the shared heart of these two distinct yet harmonious mediums that makes the book such a compelling read.

At its core, “Ensnaring the Moment” encourages us to grapple with the very nature of time and impermanence. How do photography and poetry try to “freeze” or “ensnare” those fleeting moments, creating a sense of permanence in a world that is constantly shifting and fading into that “vast, churning river of time?”. The collection also delves into memory and nostalgia, showing how images evoke personal and collective recollections, even those not directly experienced. Photographs act as powerful triggers for revisiting the past, often tinged with a melancholic or wistful undertone, reminding us of shared human experiences that resonate across different lives

The book masterfully navigates themes of connection and isolation, portraying intimacy and shared moments alongside solitude and contemplation. It explores the fundamental human need for connection and the unique journeys of individuals. There is also a powerful exploration of the seen and the unseen, what is explicitly shown versus what is hinted at, obscured, or left to the imagination. This idea that art can reveal deeper truths by not revealing everything is a profound undercurrent throughout the collection. Moreover, the book finds beauty in the mundane and even in decay, in the weathered age of stone, the desolate beauty of a turnstile, the gnarled branches of trees, challenging our conventional notions of what constitutes beauty. It champions the power of observation and presence, proving how both photography and poetry train us to be more attuned to the world, offering “soul-settling ways of seeing” that transcend mere documentation. Ultimately, the collection touches on vulnerability and resilience, narrative and storytelling, and the tactile and visceral experience of art, inviting us to engage with these works on a deeply sensory level.

In terms of craft and process, I am particularly drawn to the delicate interplay between visual silence and resonant language within this collection. I have found myself looking for how the chosen poems, through their pacing and syntax, either echo the stillness of a photograph or, conversely, infuse it with a kinetic energy that was not at once clear. Does the poet employ stark, unadorned language that mirrors the directness of a documentary photograph, or do they weave intricate metaphors that act like a slow, layered exposure, revealing deeper truths with each line? The true artistry here lies in the absence of superfluous words, much like a powerful monochrome image relies on the absence of colour to amplify its impact.

My attention is also keenly fixed on the curatorial choice in the ‘dialogue’ between image and text on the page. It is not simply about pairing a poem with a photograph, it is about how they converse, challenge, or complement each other. The physical layout, the negative space, even the font choice, these are all poetic decisions in themselves, influencing the reader’s pace and the overall emotional rhythm of the book. It is about more than content, it is about the tangible experience of holding and reading something that feels meticulously crafted. Ultimately, the collection showcases the artist’s, or poet’s, unique approach to capturing fleeting human experience within a structured form. Whether it is the photographer freezing a gesture or the poet distilling an emotion into a handful of lines, the mastery lies in making the specific feel universal. It is that ability to take something ephemeral, almost intangible, and give it form and weight, allowing it to resonate long after the page is turned. This echoes the profound truth that both poetry and photography, at their very best, are not merely about recording, they are about transmuting the raw material of life into something timeless and deeply felt.

The way a single image can halt you, draw you into a moment of someone else’s life, which is what I live for. It is like picking up an old journal and stumbling upon a page that feels eerily familiar, even though you have never seen it before. And today, as I flip through these new discoveries within “Ensnaring the Moment,” that sensation is hitting me hard. There is a particular kind of intimacy, a shared human space, that these frames effortlessly carve out, much like how certain fleeting memories imprint themselves onto your consciousness.

Take, for instance, this striking black and white capture of a figure on a bicycle, seemingly caught mid motion through a dense, almost wild, patch of foliage. It is not merely a person on a bike, it is a whisper of escape, of everyday journeys perhaps, but shrouded in something more clandestine, more private. The way the light struggles through the leaves, dappling the scene, gives it a timeless quality, a snapshot from an era where life felt a little slower, a little more observed. It reminds me of the countless bike rides I took as a kid through the woods near my nan’s house, convinced I was on some grand adventure, even if it was to the corner shop. There is a beautiful ambiguity here, a sense of quiet determination, almost as if the rider is navigating not just a path, but the very fabric of time itself.

Then there is this deeply poignant image, tinged with a delicate, almost sepia like colour, showing two figures in an embrace. It is a moment of profound connection, of comfort looked for and given. One figure is partially obscured, suggesting a protective arm around the other, whose small frame is enveloped. You see the gentle clasp of hands, the slight curve of backs, and it immediately transports you to every hug that ever truly mattered, those that offered solace, those that celebrated joy, those that simply said, “I am here”. It is an unflinching look at human tenderness, a reminder of the fundamental need for touch and reassurance that transcends any specific circumstance. It is a reminder of those anchoring figures in our own lives, whose presence could turn a chaotic day into a moment of stillness.

And speaking of stillness, the close up of a man’s suit jacket and the side of his head, subtly coloured, is fascinating. The sharp line of his lapel, the crisp white of a pocket square, and the slight suggestion of his ear speak volumes without showing a face. It is about presence, about the quiet power of presentation, or perhaps the uniform of a life lived with a certain gravitas. The texture of the fabric, the fall of the light, the very air around him, all contribute to a sense of held dignity, a figure ready to face the world, or perhaps simply caught in a moment of poised reflection. It makes me think of my own grandad, always impeccably dressed, a silent sentinel of a bygone era, whose presence was felt more than heard. The subtle creases and slight imperfections in the image itself only add to its authenticity, its history.

Then there is the vibrant, almost electrifying image of two young figures in a powerful embrace. The colours here are striking, a bright yellow top contrasting with a dark dress adorned with white polka dots. But it is the way they hold onto each other, the tight clasp of arms around waists and backs, that truly captures the heart. It is a moment of pure, unadulterated friendship or familial love, unburdened by the complexities of the adult world. It is raw, honest affection, reminding you of the simple, potent joy of connection, the kind that forms the very bedrock of our emotional lives. There is a universality to this embrace, a testament to the bonds that shelter us. It feels like stepping into a sun etched memory from a time when worries were few and hugs were everything.

Finally, the intimate shot of a woman with a man’s arm around her, against the backdrop of a building sign with the partial word “Hotel,” is incredibly evocative. The woman’s head is tilted back slightly, a soft smile on her face, bathed in what feels like late afternoon light. Her yellow jacket drapes casually over her arm, and the pattern of her dress is subtly visible. The man’s arm, though merely an arm, speaks volumes about companionship and intimacy. It is a glimpse into a shared moment, perhaps a holiday, a quiet celebration, or simply the easy comfort of being together. The “Hotel” sign grounds it in a specific time and place, hinting at journeys, new experiences, and the transient magic of travel. It is a poignant reminder of those shared experiences, those quiet moments of connection that weave the tapestry of our lives. These are not merely photographs, they are echoes of human experience, beautifully made, inviting us to find our own reflections within their frames.

This collection truly underlines how poetry and photography, with their shared impulses to compress time and distil experience, serve as profound means of attention. As Leah Ollman notes in her introductory essay, both forms are “acts of pointing, of directing our attention,” presenting what we may have already seen but enabling us to register its deeper ramifications. The etymology itself is telling, both “stanza” and “camera” derive from the Italian word for “chamber” or “room”. Both are means of enclosure, of framing a view apart from the rest, isolating and having a specific space within defined limits. This contraction, this distillation, creates a “tight space of vast purport,” where what is left out matters as much as what is kept in. The boundaries of a photograph delineate a province complete in itself, and every poem, too, resembles such a territory. This book powerfully proves that what lies within these captured spaces, whether in words or light, is “defiantly, flagrantly free,” potent and inexhaustible.

“Ensnaring the Moment” is more than a book, it is an invitation to pause, to look closer, and to feel more deeply. It is a testament to the enduring power of both poetry and photography to capture the ephemeral and imbue it with lasting significance. It leaves you with a heightened appreciation for the quiet magic that unfolds when image and language converge, offering a compelling journey into the intricate dance between seeing and feeling.

Regards

Alex