Amelia Abraham caught up with the prolific photographer who recently captured the Queer Britain team for Doc’s to talk through the images that best define what they do.
Photography became an obsession for Jade Smith almost by accident. There was the push from their art teacher in Kettering, Northamptonshire, who thought their talent for drawing might translate, and the chance encounter with a boy on the school bus who showed Jade his camera and explained the basics. “After that, at school, I quickly went from the loudest kid in class to the kid with the camera,” Jade laughs.
The rest of Jade’s teen years were spent buying cheap film at the pound shop and photographing the quintessential 2000s British teenage life unfolding around them. The festival-inspired fashion, house parties, and those neon sunglasses that were best popularised by Skins. Doc’s were a staple back then, too, since Jade grew up near the original Wollaston factory. “My dad bought me a pair from the factory – I still wear them 21 years later, they even survived Glastonbury.”
In their spare time as a teen, they immersed themselves in the work of classic photographers like Henri Cartier-Bresson, studied composition obsessively, and spent evenings at photography classes, often the youngest person in the room. A few lessons from that time have stayed with them:
Explore every angle and always look at the background first," Jade explains. “The background always makes the image.
Jade moved from Northamptonshire to London in their early 20s, worked part time at Boots in the photo lab, and in their spare time, began to carve out their interests as photographer and videographer today: documenting sport, queer communities and Pride events, and always drawn to unscripted moments that reveal something genuine. "It's those moments when someone’s taking a breath, when you think I might not be taking a picture, but I am. Authenticity, organic, real moments."
This interest informs projects such as Body in Progress, an ongoing series that emerged from time spent at outdoor calisthenics parks in London. There, they encountered a community gathering around exercise equipment created by the charity Steel Warriors, which melts down confiscated knives and recasts the metal into gym bars. "It's a place for people to be themselves, spend time and connect," they say.
Their two principal subjects – queer identity and sport – are interconnected, partly because both relationships began as a participant, not an observer. Having played for London's Romance FC and more recently joined a cricket team for women and non-binary people, they explain: "Sport has always been a safety blanket for me, in a way, it has saved me," they say. "Being in a team gives queer people a sense of belonging and community, and I think that's what Pride is too."
They vividly remember attending their first Pride in London as a student. "I walked in and got goosebumps," they say. "So many gay people in one place, it was insane." It took years to find the confidence to take their camera and approach people, but that became important as they witnessed how Britain has been falling in European rankings on LGBTQ+ rights. "As a queer and nonbinary person who's gone through homophobia, I want to use my work to show people how beautiful and amazing the community is," they explain.
I've got this deep-rooted thing inside me – a need to show people who are questioning other people's identities who we really are.
Their ongoing documentation of events like Dyke March and Trans+ Pride is driven by the idea that photography can serve as both record and resistance. "I do think there are parts of the community we don’t always see." "For every generation there's artists who will add to the fight," they say, namechecking inspirations like Sunil Gupta and Wolfgang Tillmans. They see contemporary image-makers as part of a continuing lineage. "In terms of LGBTQ+ rights and Pride, we can go forwards, but we can also go backwards," they reflect. "That's what we've seen recently. So we have to document and do the work.”
“I took this at Trans Pride in 2024. I spotted the hat first. I thought she looked phenomenal, so beautiful. It was the end of the day, my last roll of film, and I went over and said, ‘You look incredible, can I take your picture?’ I always ask people for a portrait. If they say no, that’s fine. But she said yes, I sent her the image after, and she loved it. It’s those moments of connection, and of seeing the beauty in someone else, that’s what I want to show, what I want my work to encourage.”
“This was taken in Ruskin Park in Brixton. I started to train myself. It got me much healthier, but I also became friends with some of the community. It might be easy to assume loads of muscly men might not be, but they’re so kind and friendly. People stay all day. Rieon, in the photo, is an incredible athlete. When we train, we watch each other grow, stage by stage, level by level, unlocking the next.”
“I’ve been part of the football club Romance FC for 5 years. They’re a foundational point in the women’s and queer football space. Trisha Lewis is not just the founder and coach, but a producer and facilitator. This was taken at one of her tournaments. I wanted to photograph the tournament in a documentary way. This was a moment of candidness, two mates playing around.”
“There are parts of the queer community who don’t get the spotlight so much, or in the right way. That’s why, at Pride in Manchester, I hung out with pups and furries. Then, on my way to get a coffee, I met some of the leather daddies of Manchester. They told me they were going to get a sausage roll, so I joined them. Just as I went to take this photo, a tram went past. I thought, that’s so Manchester. That’s what I’m looking for: a way to show Pride in a way that also reflects British culture today. You don’t often see gay guys dressed in leather eating a sausage roll on the street.”
“I love the light here, as well as the outfits, the nails, and the conversation in the background. To be able to capture people as they are, in their beauty, is part of what portraits are about. Trans Pride that day was euphoric. Buzzing. It was like being in another world for a day.”
“At Dyke March, so many people had Docs on. I took this photo as everyone moved from the parade to the park. I love that everyone’s going in the same direction – there’s a togetherness. It was late afternoon and this person caught my eye. For me, the camera is really a way to meet new people, to start a conversation.
WHAT MAKES YOUR SOLE BOUNCE?
“Running in the rain.
I don't listen to music when I'm running. I like to listen to what’s going on in the world.”
“Being silly.
I’m 34, but people think I’m 25 because I’ve held onto that childlike, big kid thing."
“Getting photos developed.”
