“One of the things that drives me is just how pissed off I am at the way Justin gets treated on a daily basis,” says British photographer Louis Quail. Justin is Quail’s brother; now 58, he’s suffered from schizophrenia for the majority of his life. “Justin was diagnosed when he was 20, I was 12,” Quail remembers, “but the writing was on the wall much earlier than that.”
Quail’s latest project, Big Brother — now available in photobook form — is dedicated to Justin, “who I love very much”. It’s a refreshingly candid portrait of the photographer’s brother, and a deeply honest insight into the reality of living with mental illness. “I think Justin has been ignored his entire life,” Quail explains, “I wanted to change that.”
The intimate portraits that bestrew the pages of Big Brother show Justin’s life for all its light and shade. They reveal the normality of his chaotic living conditions, and the unfavourable effects of his anti-psychotic medicine — in one photograph, Justin lies on his bed in a room littered with piles of unfolded clothes; in another, he relaxes on the sofa with Jackie, his girlfriend, his face obscured by cigarette haze, surrounded by dirty dishes and a table covered in mess. But they also show another side to Justin, one that’s not defined by mental illness — his 20-year relationship with his girlfriend (a success by anyone’s standards) and his unconditional love of birdwatching.
But, Big Brother is about more than just photographs. It verges on the literary, drawing on the narrative techniques adopted by authors. “A lot of my friends are writers,” he explains, “and I’ve been really influenced by the way they approach novel writing.” It’s a method that resonates throughout the book, which intersperses Quail’s own view of Justin with Justin’s police records and medical notes, as well as his poetry and paintings. “He’s an amateur on both counts,” Quail explains, “but his work is quite compelling and it’s a glimpse inside his head that you can never access through a photograph.” Publishing Justin’s book of art within his own is not only Quail’s way of ensuring a more rounded picture of his brother, but also a bona fide ode to him — one he endearingly describes as a “literary hug.”
The literary element of the book is supplemented by Quail’s own writing: he accompanies each image with his written observations of Justin’s situation. “One of the side effects of the anti-psychotic drugs that Justin takes to control his schizophrenia is severe drowsiness,” reads one caption, attached to a photo of Justin asleep. These captions are a a narrative tool that serve to illuminate everything an image can’t.
It’s this reaching beneath the surface that gives Quail’s project such depth. While Justin’s mental illness might be instantly recognisable — “his otherness is really out there,” says Quail — his paranoid delusions are not. “He’s worried about people breaking into his flat and stealing things,” Quail explains, “or he’ll hear someone in the street say ‘sorry,’ and he’ll think it’s because it’s the same people who punctured his tyre two years ago and they’re apologising.” It’s through his medical notes that we’re able to learn about the innermost thoughts and fears that plague Justin on a daily basis, shedding a light on the invisible side of his illness.
Justin’s also no stranger to trouble, and has had multiple run-ins with the police. Jackie, who suffers both from schizophrenia and alcoholism, has phoned 999 because Justin won’t turn the TV over, Quail explains, or because she thinks he’s hidden her keys. “He’ll get arrested for criminal damage to a cigarette,” the photographer sighs, “because he’s poured Jackie’s vodka away over one.” The inclusion of Justin’s police records in the book not only divulges the ridiculousness of such situations, but is also a way of talking about wider systematic failure. “It pisses me off how clumsy our systems are at coping — how ineffective they are at dealing with people like Justin who just don’t really know how to follow the rules of society.” Quail’s biggest fear is that Justin will one day end up in prison, without access to social support or the care he needs, and that’s why his next mission is to get mental health charities on board with the book.
Big Brother is much more than the story of a schizophrenic, it’s about Justin, and the system that fails him. Above anything, Quail’s photographs present Justin as a person, who’s not defined by his mental health. “It’s part of him, not all of him,” the image-maker continually re-asserts, “and I think it’s important to remember that.”
Big Brother by Louis Quail is published by Dewi Lewis, and available to purchase now.