Clifford Prince King Makes His Home Anywhere

Over the summer, Clifford Prince King put his belongings in storage and spent the season abroad. Months of transience may seem like an unusual move for the photographer, who captures his relationships and experiences as a queer Black man as they often unfold in interior spaces. His autobiographical images find value in privacy—sun-dappled friends and lovers in various states of togetherness, whether slow dancing shirtless in a kitchen, braiding each other’s hair mid-blunt, gently embracing in a steamy shower, or other moments of quiet beauty. They also wield a disarming intimacy, seemingly collapsing the walls between audience and subject thanks to the feelings of softness, safety, and self-realization they engender.

As he was entering his 30s, though, King yearned to see how nature, unexplored locales, and total strangers might influence his photographs and the interiority they explore. He planned to spend this past summer at artist residences—BOFFO on Fire Island, Light Work in Syracuse, and Eighth House in Vermont—with vacations in São Paulo and the Cayman Islands in between. He continued to work but captured entirely new subjects enveloped in lush natural settings. Using a 35mm film camera to lend the work a timeless grainy quality, King bathed his objects in the warm light of summer and photographed them in gentle poses of affection and vulnerability: a capoeira dancer caught mid-handstand on a rooftop, a couple standing close together by the waterfront on a misty afternoon. 

Thirteen of his photographs from that summer star in “Let Me Know When You Get Home,” an outdoor exhibition commissioned by Public Art Fund on more than 300 JCDecaux bus shelters and newsstands across New York City, Boston, and Chicago. It’s King’s biggest canvas yet—no small feat given his résumé includes projects for Calvin Klein and JW Anderson—and a poetic pillar of LGBTQ+ love and the representation King never saw as a child growing up in Tucson. On view through May 26 and curated by Public Art Fund’s Katerina Stathopoulou, the six-foot-tall photographs transmit feelings of warmth and comfort to commuters during cold season. They also impart one of King’s biggest revelations from uprooting himself and spending a summer abroad: “home” is not strictly a physical place, but a reflection of one’s headspace and community.

Shortly after the show opened, King caught up with Surface about talking to strangers, being in nature, and moving forward.

Most of your previous work was made at home and in interior spaces, but this work was made nomadically, much of it outdoors. What inspired you to travel during the summer?

I was offered three artist residencies on the East Coast: Fire Island, Vermont, and Syracuse. In between two, I planned a trip to Brazil and the Cayman Islands. A mixture of advancement in my photo practice (studio space) and overall desire to explore was my inspiration. 

What did bringing nature and new locales into the equation reveal about your practice and how you approach capturing your subjects?

I’ve always loved being in nature. I don’t often get the opportunity to be in nature with friends or muses, so this felt special. Nature is a backdrop that can make an image beautiful easily. For me, it’s a matter of finding people to accompany me in these faraway, desolate places to create an image, which can be challenging. I approached locals in the cities slowly and would mention the idea of having their photos taken, and would feel it out to see if that was something they’d even be interested in. If not, totally fine. If so, we’d continue to have conversations about what that would look like. 

How has your relationship with home changed after spending the summer traveling?

Since that summer, I realized (for myself) that my idea of home resides within my mental headspace and wellness versus heavily relying on a physical place. I love an interior space and creating a physical home, but I believe I was relying on just that to center my happiness. 

There’s a sense of care involved with saying “let me know when you get home”—one that might comfort someone waiting for a bus at night. Do the photographs selected for this commission reflect this idea at all?

The title has taken on several meanings. With the exhibition, it’s more focused on the idea of searching for home: where that place may be, surrounded by who, etc. Mainly, referring to “home” as a feeling of returning to one’s self, mind, and body. 

These images will be seen by millions of people every day—given their intimate and autobiographical nature, what emotions does that invoke?

I try not to think about it too much and just let the photos embody their own identity. My photos are extensions of feelings I’ve had for a while, so this is a nice way to release those feelings and move forward. 

What do you hope people passing by your images and sharing space with them see and feel? 

Peace, calmness, and restoration. 

“Clifford Prince King: Let Me Know When You Get Home” will be on display at JCDecaux bus shelters and newsstands across New York City, Chicago, and Boston until May 26.