Jo Tammaro Interview
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Limited
Craig Kerrecoe returns to his former hometown
of Broadstairs to interview his cousin, the
Photographer and OC Member, Jo
Tammaro...
We are sat in a first floor restaurant overlooking Broadstairs Harbour. Jo has just joined me and we've ordered coffee. It's very gusty outside and the sea is choppy. In spite of the inclement weather, the restaurant is quite busy and there is lots of activity outside along the harbour wall. Bad weather seems to bring people out in this part of East Kent. They gather along the coastline and watch the English Channel misbehave. I used to do it myself.
Thanet, on the far eastern tip of Kent, is surrounded by the sea on three sides with only one direction to head in when you want to leave. It used to be an island and to me it somehow remained so. It left me feeling claustrophobic and trapped for most of the time I was there as an adult.
I haven't seen Jo in a long time. I moved away years ago now and, to be honest, I don't like to come back. It would be fair to say that there's a distance in our relationship as well as our locations and I feel a little melancholic at that realization. I break the ice...
We are sat in a first floor restaurant overlooking Broadstairs Harbour. Jo has just joined me and we've ordered coffee. It's very gusty outside and the sea is choppy. In spite of the inclement weather, the restaurant is quite busy and there is lots of activity outside along the harbour wall. Bad weather seems to bring people out in this part of East Kent. They gather along the coastline and watch the English Channel misbehave. I used to do it myself.
Thanet, on the far eastern tip of Kent, is surrounded by the sea on three sides with only one direction to head in when you want to leave. It used to be an island and to me it somehow remained so. It left me feeling claustrophobic and trapped for most of the time I was there as an adult.
I haven't seen Jo in a long time. I moved away years ago now and, to be honest, I don't like to come back. It would be fair to say that there's a distance in our relationship as well as our locations and I feel a little melancholic at that realization. I break the ice...
"This is a wonderful place to come and watch the
Harbour. This is one of your favourite places?" I
ask.
"Hhhm, definitely. In the summer it's manic, but if I can find a quiet spot, get past the hustle and bustle, you know- the smells of suntan lotion, candy floss and cockles, it all takes me back to my childhood holidays in Cornwall."
"It's really cold out there though? Is it still appealing to you when it's like that?"
She frowns adamantly. "Definitely! It's in the winter when I get drawn to the beach- when the tourists have gone home and I have it all to myself! The sea seems that much more unfriendly and powerful at this time of the year."
"That's an interesting thing to say. Is there a correlation between 'unfriendly' and 'powerful'?"
The coffee we ordered a few minutes ago is delivered by an Italian looking waitress in her twenties. She enquires, quite brusquely, if we want lunch. Jo tells her that we'll have the menu in 15 minutes or so which sends the young waitress off in a huff. They could probably do with the table but we booked in advance and we intend to eat soon so we both ignore her little tantrum. Jo samples her espresso before she answers my question.
"The sea, when it's like this, is powerful- in that it's an uncontrollable force of nature. The tourists get their sparkling blue sea littered with lilo's and rubber boats and their sandcastles being swamped in the bay by a sedate incoming tide... that's the sea being friendly. I get this..." She raises her hand and gestures towards the window. "The sea can relax and be itself in the winter, it lets loose. The cold wind, the rain stinging your face, trying in vain to protect your camera from the salt in the air- this contrast is my 'flip side'. It's stunning. It's unfriendly, perhaps, to the summer tourist, but it's my haven of peace. There's nothing better than this to clear the mind!"
From the phrases Jo is using, I get the sense that she considers herself to have a certain 'possession' of the sea outside our window- it's her 'flip-side', her haven. I find this intriguing. Living so close to the sea for so long tends to leave one taking it for granted but with Jo, her continued exposure seems to make her more aware of it and it's effect upon her. It sounds like Jo considers the frequently dramatic coastline around us as her own personal refuge. This is where she comes to escape.
"There are lots of beautiful coastlines to choose from here, and the ones I choose to escape to have no restaurants, no ice creams and cockles."
She takes another sip of espresso. She appears unimpressed with her coffee and I have to agree. We both know a good coffee when we taste it. This isn't it.
"This bay we're at now is great to get a sense of the typical seaside town. It's perfect for capturing the essence of the seaside- fishing boats, beach huts, even in the winter. But if I want to escape, I choose somewhere else, more deserted, more rugged."
There are plenty of isolated, rugged areas here. Jo and I used to go off exploring with our siblings when we were children. We'd be gone for entire days at a time with only enough money for an ice-cream to keep us going. There was none of this safety paranoia surrounding contemporary children in those days- we just left the house and kept going until we got bored, or hungry. Looking back, Thanet was a great place to grow up, in the past tense at least. I'm not sure about now- my children are growing up somewhere altogether different so i'll never know. I ask if Jo has any 'special' places along the coastline that she escapes to?
"Hhhm, definitely. In the summer it's manic, but if I can find a quiet spot, get past the hustle and bustle, you know- the smells of suntan lotion, candy floss and cockles, it all takes me back to my childhood holidays in Cornwall."
"It's really cold out there though? Is it still appealing to you when it's like that?"
She frowns adamantly. "Definitely! It's in the winter when I get drawn to the beach- when the tourists have gone home and I have it all to myself! The sea seems that much more unfriendly and powerful at this time of the year."
"That's an interesting thing to say. Is there a correlation between 'unfriendly' and 'powerful'?"
The coffee we ordered a few minutes ago is delivered by an Italian looking waitress in her twenties. She enquires, quite brusquely, if we want lunch. Jo tells her that we'll have the menu in 15 minutes or so which sends the young waitress off in a huff. They could probably do with the table but we booked in advance and we intend to eat soon so we both ignore her little tantrum. Jo samples her espresso before she answers my question.
"The sea, when it's like this, is powerful- in that it's an uncontrollable force of nature. The tourists get their sparkling blue sea littered with lilo's and rubber boats and their sandcastles being swamped in the bay by a sedate incoming tide... that's the sea being friendly. I get this..." She raises her hand and gestures towards the window. "The sea can relax and be itself in the winter, it lets loose. The cold wind, the rain stinging your face, trying in vain to protect your camera from the salt in the air- this contrast is my 'flip side'. It's stunning. It's unfriendly, perhaps, to the summer tourist, but it's my haven of peace. There's nothing better than this to clear the mind!"
From the phrases Jo is using, I get the sense that she considers herself to have a certain 'possession' of the sea outside our window- it's her 'flip-side', her haven. I find this intriguing. Living so close to the sea for so long tends to leave one taking it for granted but with Jo, her continued exposure seems to make her more aware of it and it's effect upon her. It sounds like Jo considers the frequently dramatic coastline around us as her own personal refuge. This is where she comes to escape.
"There are lots of beautiful coastlines to choose from here, and the ones I choose to escape to have no restaurants, no ice creams and cockles."
She takes another sip of espresso. She appears unimpressed with her coffee and I have to agree. We both know a good coffee when we taste it. This isn't it.
"This bay we're at now is great to get a sense of the typical seaside town. It's perfect for capturing the essence of the seaside- fishing boats, beach huts, even in the winter. But if I want to escape, I choose somewhere else, more deserted, more rugged."
There are plenty of isolated, rugged areas here. Jo and I used to go off exploring with our siblings when we were children. We'd be gone for entire days at a time with only enough money for an ice-cream to keep us going. There was none of this safety paranoia surrounding contemporary children in those days- we just left the house and kept going until we got bored, or hungry. Looking back, Thanet was a great place to grow up, in the past tense at least. I'm not sure about now- my children are growing up somewhere altogether different so i'll never know. I ask if Jo has any 'special' places along the coastline that she escapes to?
"Perhaps I'm biased, but when I walk out my
front door, I'm just 200 feet from Botany
Bay."
That's just convenience, surely?
"No. It's not my favourite place to escape to
because it's convenient, it's my favourite place
to escape to because it's beautiful with it's
coves and hidden caves. I can spend hours
down there in the winter and sometimes not see a
soul. I like that."
She entered a photograph of the Botany Bay cliff tops into a local competition recently. How did it fare?
"It didn't win. The winners were the typical touristy views of Thanet." she adds, nonchalantly. "I think that best sums up that my preference, my places to escape to are those less known, tranquil spots where I can find some peace, find nature at it's best."
I notice how loud the gulls are outside. There's a Chip Shop nearby and the tourists throw scraps at the birds so they hang around outside like hoodied teenagers, intimidating everyone. I've personally witnessed a gull go through an open shop door and take pastry from a counter. They're a nuisance- just another thing I don't miss about being here. I mention it to Jo.
"They were here first!! Everyone gets so irate with these birds. If you live by the seaside you should expect gulls!" I consider myself suitably told off, even though I don't live by the seaside, not anymore.
She entered a photograph of the Botany Bay cliff tops into a local competition recently. How did it fare?
"It didn't win. The winners were the typical touristy views of Thanet." she adds, nonchalantly. "I think that best sums up that my preference, my places to escape to are those less known, tranquil spots where I can find some peace, find nature at it's best."
I notice how loud the gulls are outside. There's a Chip Shop nearby and the tourists throw scraps at the birds so they hang around outside like hoodied teenagers, intimidating everyone. I've personally witnessed a gull go through an open shop door and take pastry from a counter. They're a nuisance- just another thing I don't miss about being here. I mention it to Jo.
"They were here first!! Everyone gets so irate with these birds. If you live by the seaside you should expect gulls!" I consider myself suitably told off, even though I don't live by the seaside, not anymore.
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