This new photobook is a dreamy ode to the universal appeal of the pool

“When you’re by a pool, you have time.” Understated though it may sound, a pool’s relationship with time is central to its appeal, according to Norweigan photographer Sølve Sundsbø. In an essay entitled “Photographing water” in Pools, a new photobook edited by writer and curator Lou Stoppard and out on 7 April from Rizzoli, he explains the advantageous possibilities of doing a photoshoot involving pools. Although Sundsbø’s sentiment refers to the logistics associated with photography, his statement about “having time” holds true in a wider sense with regard to pools.

For many of us, pools are sites of momentary solace—an oasis away from the rat race. They function as an antidote to our toxic schedules, rushing as though we are Lewis Carroll’s White Rabbit. An avid swimmer, Stoppard muses on the feeling of emerging from a pool as though you are transformed: “your breathing has changed—you’re a new person, even if only slightly.” The moments we spend submerged yield us more control of our own time. In turn, we allow ourselves to appreciate time for the luxury that it is.

The image that graces the cover of Stoppard’s photobook is fittingly taken by Sundsbø. Shot in the late ‘90s for Frank magazine, the image shows a gracefully slender model, back arched with the careful poise of an Olympic gymnast, engulfed in azure. From the part of her face that is visible in the shot, we can see little in the way of any facial expression, such is her state of calm. The water has afforded her respite from the world, and crucially, time where she is obligated to do nothing but remain still—she is free to just be, to exist.

Part of the freedom that a pool offers, is its democratic experience. Leafing through the pages of Pools, one will encounter shots both from the heyday of budget-friendly package holidays as well as luxe marble-lined tubs. Seeing children live out their glory days under the summer sun on the same pages as pools surrounded by Italian relief sculptures and colonnades is telling of the universal accessibility of a pool’s joys. In another  essay from the book, “It’s Fine Once You’re In”, Stoppard describes the experience of swimming solo in hotel pools. Irrespective of whether they are “a clinical aqua rectangle in need of renovation” or an extravagant container of luxury, both are experiences of value because they are “resolutely unwild; polite [and] ordered”.

Beyond the book’s imagery, Stoppard collaborated with B.A.M. design studio to create an experience which extends beyond the photographs. The studio developed a waterproof sleeve made out of light-blue, transparent plastic not only complimenting the tones of Sundsbø’s cover image, but also making the book a functional pool companion. David McKendrick worked on the sleeve and has marvelled that the plastic cover enhanced the book visually, but also “smells like an inflatable pool floatie”—adding a further layer of familiarity.

Given these testing times for global health, it is looking likelier by the day that we will have to spend the summer of 2020 finding new ways to get our pool-fix. Whilst that prospect may feel like a difficult pill to swallow, Stoppard’s dreamy visual tribute to the pool proves a worthy substitute.

 Pools edited by Lou Stoppard is out on 7 April from Rizzoli.