They were my landscape by Phoebe Kiely builds a fragmented picture of a place that is at once personal and anonymous. Based in Manchester, Kiely compulsively catalogues her urban and suburban surroundings, drawing attention to prosaic spectacles and passers-by. In her book, the cracked concrete of vernacular architecture, or the flattened feathers of a pigeon lying on a road are granted the same scrutiny as a young man smoking at a bus stop, or a walking mother carrying her young child. Echoing the fragility of everyday life, Kiely’s elusive sequence of black-and-white photographs vacillates between portraits, objects and street scenes. Within this mutable body of ongoing work, she attempts to find a sense of self.