In an era where motherhood is synonymous with Pinterest-perfect feeds and peaceful smiles, Steph Wilson’s portrait “Sonam” enters the scene like an unexpected slap of realness. Wilson’s work has always danced on the edge of provocation, and with “Sonam,” she’s taken home the 2024 Taylor Wessing photography prize by embracing all things unconventional, unpolished, and unapologetic.
The National Portrait Gallery crowned Wilson the winner, awarding her £15,000 for a portrait that throws maternal stereotypes out the window with the grace of a bowling ball. The image, part of her larger “Ideal Mother” project, centers around Sonam—a woman who might shatter all of your preconceptions about motherhood in one defiant look. She’s not glowing, she’s not smiling, and she’s not trying to convince anyone that she’s thrilled to be here. Instead, she’s staring down the camera with a blunt gaze, her moustache firmly in place, baby clinging to her chest like a protest banner.
The Moustache Heard ‘Round the Gallery
Yes, you read that right. Sonam has a moustache. And no, it’s not a quirky Photoshop trick or a gimmick. Sonam is a wig-maker by trade, and the moustache is a tribute both to her profession and to her own masculine features—features that friends and family have told her to embrace. And embrace them she does. This is not the soft-focus, pastel-filtered vision of motherhood we’re so often fed, but rather a grittier, rawer, and—dare I say—more human version.
Wilson met Sonam through Instagram, that wellspring of “authentic” content. She was on the lookout for mothers who didn’t fit the mainstream mold—those who could bring some edge to the idealized concept of motherhood. But rather than leaning into the tired tropes of "weary mother as unsung hero" or "everyday warrior," Wilson gives us Sonam as she is, moustache, baby, and all.
Breaking Down the Ideal: What Makes a “Real” Mother Anyway?
The portrait’s power lies in its subversion of the societal clichés we often see. Sonam is presented as a whole person—motherhood isn’t her only identity, but part of a more complex narrative. Her posture is casual, legs sprawled, gaze unflinching, almost challenging the viewer to make their judgments and then sit with them for a moment. This is a different portrayal of the “ideal mother,” one that doesn’t hinge on sacrifice or sentimentality. It’s refreshing and, yes, a little uncomfortable. We’re all so used to seeing mothers perform love and gentleness for the camera that seeing one looking, well, like a real person with thoughts and feelings that might not be Instagram-friendly is practically jarring.
Wilson’s portrait throws us a gauntlet: Can we accept mothers as multifaceted people, or do we need them to keep performing their roles for our comfort?
A Trio of Talent: The Runners-Up
Let’s pivot from Wilson’s mustachioed maternal rebel to the second and third prize winners, both of whom also take bold, unconventional approaches in their work. Adam Ferguson, an Australian photographer, snagged the second prize with his project “Big Sky.” Ferguson’s work captures the grim realities of globalization and climate change against the romanticized backdrop of the Australian Outback—a landscape often marketed as a rugged, untamed paradise. Instead of reinforcing that fantasy, Ferguson’s portraits reveal the complex, sometimes tragic legacy of colonialism that underpins much of modern Australian society. It’s a far cry from your standard tourism brochure.
Then there’s Tjitske Sluis, the Dutch photographer who won third place with “Out of Love, Out of Necessity,” a series documenting her mother’s final days. Sluis’s work is both a personal diary and an homage to her mother’s spirit, revealing the humor and humanity in the face of inevitable decline. There’s no romanticizing death here, just as there’s no romanticizing motherhood in Wilson’s portrait. Sluis instead captures an honest portrait of a mother-daughter relationship that goes beyond nostalgia or sentimentality, offering a raw and poignant tribute to love and loss.
Art and Authenticity: Are We Ready for Realness?
The National Portrait Gallery, an institution that has historically leaned into classical depictions, surprises us with its championing of these raw, less-than-polished portrayals. For years, portraiture has revolved around depicting people at their best, prettiest, and most dignified, capturing nobility or elegance. But Wilson’s, Ferguson’s, and Sluis’s portraits go for something truer. It’s as if the gallery’s decision to award these pieces reflects a broader shift in cultural taste—a craving for authenticity in a world increasingly coated with artifice.
Perhaps we’re tired of the performative nature of images, of people presenting curated versions of themselves for public approval. Maybe we’re ready to embrace complexity and nuance. Or maybe it’s just trendy to be “raw” these days—who’s to say?
But Let’s Not Forget the Prize Money (Because Who Would?)
Alongside the glory comes the financial reward. Wilson takes home a cool £15,000, Ferguson gets £3,000, and Sluis nabs £2,000. But the best prize of all? The £8,000 commission to create a new work for the National Portrait Gallery’s collection. That particular honor went to South African photographer Jesse Navarre Vos, whose piece “Mom, I’ll Follow You Still” rounds out this year’s top picks. Vos’s portrait of his adopted mother (actually his biological paternal grandmother) pauses in an elevator, hands at her sides, a figure caught between past independence and present vulnerability. Like Sluis’s work, it taps into themes of love, duty, and the complicated roles we take on in families.
In the world of artistic photography, where most spend years paying dues for recognition (and where a win like this can make or break a career), these monetary prizes are significant. But while the money certainly matters, what’s equally important is the space these portraits now occupy in one of the world’s premier art institutions. They push us to look, really look, at what they’re saying—and what they’re not.
Where Do We Go from Here? The Changing Face of Portraiture
These award-winning portraits might just mark the beginning of a new chapter in portraiture—one that moves beyond pretty faces and idealized narratives to embrace a rougher, more unfiltered reality. Whether we’re talking about Sonam’s moustached motherhood, Ferguson’s unsentimental Outback, Sluis’s depiction of mortality, or Vos’s tribute to his adopted mother, each piece challenges us to re-evaluate our expectations.
If there’s a moral to this story, it’s probably this: Real life doesn’t fit neatly into an Instagram post, and not every moment of motherhood, life, or love is pretty. The Taylor Wessing Photography Prize is giving us a nudge (or maybe a shove) towards accepting that reality, however uncomfortable it may be. Art has always been a mirror to society, and right now, that mirror is showing us a world that’s a little less perfect, a little more flawed, and—just maybe—a little more honest.
So here’s to the imperfect, the unfiltered, and the boldly real. May we see more of it, and may we find the courage to look it straight in the face.