Vivienne

Rottingdean. 1924–2017.

Viv never dyed her hair, loved a whisky and even in her nineties, she could still touch her toes — which she'd do without much asking. She made caramel puddings par excellence, and she had a special way with words. Once, she saw her son leaning out the window to adjust a TV aerial and said, 'Good gracious, Michael — be careful. That's how Emu died.'

She was given away by her mother. There was no explanation, really, and the 'relations' weren't very kind to her. At Christmas she sat and watched the other children open their presents. Nobody had thought to get her anything. But there were happier times too. She remembered one teacher who used to put a yellow ribbon in her hair and tell her she was pretty. Her grandad, '...such a good man,' would sit her on his knee to read a page of the Bible. He was a groom and his work took them all over.

She lost her son in recent years. The hardest of losses — the ones that invert the natural order of things. There were days, she said, when it was difficult to find reasons to go on.

But then there was her granddaughter, Maisey. Seven years old, wise beyond her years, who visited most days and hid sweets and small treasures around the house for Viv to find at unexpected moments. And Joseph, her grandson — just the sweetest little boy.

She was highly amused to sit for these portraits, endlessly saying, 'Gracious, I look awful, don't I?' — and then soldiering on regardless.

The conversation below was recorded in her home one April afternoon and then later played at her wake.

LightKeep began with Vivvy. She was my grandmother. I made this portrait and recorded this conversation not fully understanding why — only that it felt important at the time. And, looking back now, I was right. The film is all we have now besides photographs and a few possessions: the rings she wore, a necklace, not much else. But here she is alive and well. The same funny, quirky person she always was. Recorded for Maisey and Joe, her great-grandchildren; preserved for another generation and beyond.

When I sat down one day to record Viv's stories, I didn't have a plan, and LightKeep didn't exist. There was no rush. There would always be tomorrow. But now I see that's not true. These stories will disappear if they're not preserved. Viv's nearly did.