Polaroids: Anchor in an Evolving Artistic Practice

Eros, 2021

Polaroid 600, polymer paint, safety grip tape, gold leaf, varnish, Tasmanian oak, brass

Dimensions variable, edition of 1

Among the diverse tools and mediums I use in my practice, one constant is a steadfast anchor, grounding my work amidst the flux of ideas and technologies. Polaroid photography has been such a constant—a medium that, since my earliest encounters, has provided a sense of familiarity and tactile engagement. This essay reflects on the enduring role of Polaroids on my artistic path, exploring how they have shaped my practice from childhood curiosity to their integration with advanced technologies, all while maintaining their grounding presence.

My relationship with Polaroids began in early childhood. I vividly recall a photograph from around 1981 that captured me as a three-year-old standing on a beige lounge chair, dressed in brown overalls and Mickey Mouse Club ears. The immediacy of seeing that image develop before my eyes was nothing short of magical. The unexpected intimacy of seeing myself materialise in that moment mirrors Roland Barthes’ concept of the punctum—that unplanned detail which pierces the viewer with emotion.

Equally formative was the memory of deconstructing a Polaroid—tearing it apart to unravel the mystery of its instantaneity. These experiences ignited a fascination with the materiality of images and the processes behind their creation. Polaroids, even then, represented both the image and the object—a perfect blend of visual and tactile engagement.

In my first year of art school in the late 1990s, I acquired a Polaroid 600 camera and began pushing the boundaries of what Polaroids could do. They became a cornerstone of my photo media workshops and a medium for uninhibited experimentation. I collaged Polaroids into grids, scanned and enlarged them onto fine art paper, backlit them with tea lights, and incorporated them into mixed-media assemblages.

Polaroids became more than a way of recording moments—they evolved into a material for crafting layered narratives. I mapped streets with them, recorded my days, and even wrote dreams within their frames. These early projects taught me to see Polaroids as dynamic objects—images and artefacts capable of transformation. This tactile, relational engagement with Polaroids was my first real exploration of their duality as image objects.

Barthes’ theoretical writings and Susan Sontag’s On Photography deepened my engagement with Polaroids. Barthes’ concept of the punctum resonated deeply as I worked with Polaroids, with its ability to evoke intimacy and nostalgia. For Barthes, photographs are inherently tied to death, preserving moments irretrievably lost to time. With their instantaneity, Polaroids disrupt this dynamic by collapsing the distance between the photograph’s taking and its material presence. This disruption echoes in my contemporary practice, where Polaroids blur the boundaries of memory and invention.

Sontag, in turn, describes photographs as tools for appropriation and memory-making. Polaroids amplify this process: They offer instant visual gratification and a tangible artefact that can be held, manipulated, and transformed. Informed by these ideas, my Polaroids became more than just images; they became touchstones for storytelling, experimentation, and personal expression.

In the late 1990s, I encountered Destiny Deacon’s work, which profoundly impacted me. Deacon used Polaroids to explore Indigenous identity and cultural resistance, illuminating the medium’s potential for immediacy and intimacy in addressing personal and political narratives. Her playful yet pointed critiques resonated with my growing understanding of how Polaroids could act as personal records and cultural statements.

Similarly, the queer artists of the 80s and 90s, such as Mark Morrisroe and David Wojnarowicz, demonstrated the power of Polaroids to document lives and assert identities in the face of erasure. Morrisroe’s experimental manipulations, particularly his layering, scratching, and drawing on Polaroids, influenced my approach to transforming the medium. His techniques revealed the potential of Polaroids to act as survival, visibility, and defiance artefacts. Their transformation of Polaroids into artefacts of defiance mirrors how I now use the medium to reimagine identities and timelines, positioning Aboriginal queer men within alternate speculative futures. This lineage positioned Polaroids as a medium capable of bridging my work’s personal, political, and cultural aspects.

Polaroids remain a cornerstone of my practice, anchoring my exploration of identity, technology, and speculative futures. In an age dominated by digital imagery, Polaroids provide a tangible counterpoint. Their materiality and immediacy ground my work in physicality, even as I integrate advanced technologies like AI into my creative process.

Three Imaginary Boys,
Ai Generated Polaroid Triptych
2023

One of my current methods involves transferring AI-generated images onto Polaroid film. This process embeds simulations of people and moments into the Polaroid, creating a simulacrum of an actual image. The individuals and time frames captured in these Polaroids never existed within our timeline; they are speculative artefacts from alternate realities. This interplay between analogue and digital expands the Polaroid’s role as an artefact of Everywhen—existing across past, present, and future. These speculative simulacra challenge the viewer to consider the boundaries of reality, memory, and invention.

In my contemporary practice, Polaroids also serve as relational objects, connecting personal stories to broader cultural narratives. Through carefully considered colour palettes, layered textures, and gestural interventions, they carry cultural markers—traces of identity, place, and relationality. These markers create layered narratives that invite connection and interpretation. This openness aligns with my critique of linear temporality, positioning Polaroids as artefacts of circular time that challenge colonial frameworks.

Reflecting on the role of Polaroids in my practice, I see them as more than tools or mediums—they are continuity artefacts, bridging my journey with broader cultural and artistic legacies. Polaroids are uniquely suited to carry the weight of memory and imagination, offering a tactile link to the past while projecting into speculative futures.

Polaroids endure in my work as the perfect image-object: immediate yet timeless, personal yet expansive, grounded yet speculative. From holding my first Polaroid as a child to embedding alternate realities within its frame, Polaroids have always been more than a medium—they are a tactile link to memory, identity, and the infinite possibilities of storytelling. As I continue to explore new technologies and narratives, Polaroids remain a familiar touchstone, anchoring my practice in the relational and the material while expanding into the speculative.

From my earliest memories to the present day, Polaroids have evolved alongside my practice, consistently serving as a grounding force. Their unique ability to blend materiality, narrative, and experimentation offers endless storytelling and cultural reclamation opportunities. Looking to the future, Polaroids remains a constant—a medium through which I can anchor my creative exploration while continuing to imagine new horizons.

C.L. Hayden,
Dec, 204


Clinton Hayden is a Wiradjuri Blak queer artist and writer based in Melbourne. His practice spans photography, AI image creation, print media, drawing, and bricolage, exploring the intersections of personal and collective histories. Clinton’s work is deeply informed by his commitment to preserving and promoting Wiradjuri language and engaging with Indigenous Queer Futurism.