Chris Hoare photographs the fissure between Bristol’s centre and its forgotten fringes

For the photographer Chris Hoare, there have always been “two Bristols”. The one he grew up in – on the fringes of the city – and the popular, increasingly gentrified centre. Growing up, Chris’ experience of Bristol “jarred” with the general preconception of the city, one that draws many to come and live there.

This divide is only exacerbated by the city’s geography, the two locales divided by hills. It’s this fact that lends to the series’ name Seven Hills, though the project digs further into this saying. There is a claim that Bristol is built on seven hills, widely considered an attempt to draw likeness to the ‘greatness’ of Rome, – though it’s not grounded in fact. This sense of myth-making is one that speaks to Chris’ work, and the way the Bristolian centre has been aggrandized and altered, without considering the needs of its long-term locals.

The changing face of Bristol has been a subject of Chris’ photography for many years. Back in 2019 we covered his series I’ll be there with a smile, a visual investigation of one particular street, East Street, a stone’s throw from the city centre. Immortalising its residents, the series was an effort to document the street before (as was already happening) many were pushed and priced out.

Though there was one particular event that spurred Seven Hills, the toppling of Edward Colston’s statue in June 2020, during the Black Lives Matter protests. “It was a reminder of the significance of making work in a place that I call home,” Chris says. “Bristol is historically a globally important city, due to its maritime history, which is as much tied to its pivotal role in the slave trade.” This event also ties to the series theme of myth-making. How was it that Colston – a figure with irrefutable ties to the slave trade – had been only remembered for his supposed philanthropy, with significant buildings, schools and statues all named in his honour?

Of all of the images in the series – pensive, golden-lit portraits, a fresh litter of puppies, huddled together, a lone gravestone by a tree, a child in Harry Potter pyjamas, resting on a family member’s arm – Chris draws our attention to one of two boys on a moped, taken near Cribbs Causeway, a shopping district in the far north of Bristol. “I went there to photograph kids hanging out with their cars, not really sure what to expect and wasn’t really being taken by much when I was there,” says Chris. “Until suddenly two lads rode in on what was clearly a stolen motorbike, they came speeding through into the car park, drove in between the cars at a fast pace burning out the tyres at the same time – everyone stopped and watched disapprovingly.” As the kids came past Chris he managed to stop them briefly, capturing a portrait, before they skidded off dramatically to the sound of sirens. “It was the brazen nature of what they did that stood out,” Chris says.

Seven Hills is a publication that feels like a “milestone” for Chris. “I’m proud of having finalised a book which expresses some of what I feel about my hometown,” he says. When people encounter it, he hopes to appreciate the aesthetic nature of the work, while also contemplating the message, using it as a medium for thought. Though the publication doesn’t mark the end for Chris, in fact it marks a start; the start of the photographer delving further into the themes so powerfully raised in this beautiful study.

Seven Hills is now available to purchase from RPB Photobooks.