Years ago, I was sent to Cannes on assignment to photograph a mother who had discovered, many years after her daughter’s birth, that the latter was not, in actual fact, her daughter at all, but someone else’s. The cause of confusion had been -incredibly- a nurse’s inattention when shuttling newly-borns around at a maternity clinic, and the subsequent legal battle caught the attention of a German newspaper. This time I was back in town, commissioned again as photographer for international media covering a ‘So, this isn’t actually your mother’ story. I made a portrait of Olivia Maurel, a high profile campaigner to make surrogacy illegal worldwide, whose own natural mum sold her to ‘client parents’ at birth. Is there something in the water in Cannes?
Surrogacy spokeswoman
Self-proclaimed anti-surrogacy feminist Olivia is a hard woman to pin down, both conceptually and practically. Her busy social media feed is an incongruous mix: snapshots of her cat / kids / flowers alternate with plentiful selfies (that demonstrated a competent use of embellishment filters) and professional photographs of her speaking into microphones at international assemblies, or meeting notables like the Pope. It had been initially difficult for either photographer or journalist to fix the time of our rendez-vous, due to the demands of her three young children, the house renovation project that was happening around her – and the added task of last minute shopping for a new dress (the editor had been quite clear that she mustn’t wear black, which was the source of some consternation to Olivia, as her wardrobe was entirely dominated by it). Given what I’d been told about her state of home chaos, it seemed that my photo brief from the British tabloid’s ‘Femail’ magazine (‘capture glamorous Olivia, lounging in her beautiful, minimalist house’) might be tricky.
Black tights hidden from sight, as instructed
On the day of the shoot, Olivia was resplendent in a figure-hugging, green dress, and the home into which I was welcomed was quiet. The builders weren’t in evidence and I met only one of her children, whom she referred to as ‘the devil’ (the two-year-old having kept her awake all the previous night). Fortunately, sleeplessness had not taken a toll on her immaculate appearance, and her husband considerately took the exuberant toddler and two dogs to play in the garden. The photo editor and I had decided it would be pragmatic to bring a white backdrop to hide any renovation chaos and to simplify a cut-out portrait afterwards, and, given evidence of both children’s felt-tip artistic talents and builders’ masonry explorations on the wall, I was glad I had it. My assistant and I took over the lounge, moving furniture to set up a clean white ‘wall’ and studio lights. Apart from the helpful and effortlessly bilingual Olivia (surrogacy is illegal in France and so Olivia’s parents had to relocate to the US to buy their baby), there was only a cat left in the room to observe proceedings… and no regular pussycat at that. Maine coons are the biggest domesticated cat breed in the world, and supposedly descended from the pet cats that Marie Antoinette shipped out of France before losing her head. This one, in any case, had a good survival instinct, keeping its paws away from the pristine white backdrop and staying clear of the photographer’s feet.
Olivia cheerfully settled into the studio set up in her lounge
Olivia’s ambition to ban surrogacy worldwide is no small one… but then Olivia is no ‘small person’. She has spent her adult life coming to terms with bipolar disorder, and healing from the emotional damage that, she maintains, stems from being born of surrogacy. She didn’t learn that her mother was not in fact her birth mother until she discovered it herself, as a teenager, doing her own research. It wasn’t until many years later that a DNA ancestry kit helped her locate her birth siblings in the US. Yet Olivia has gone on to start her own family and take up the torch to try to prevent others from going through what she did. Speaking at illustrious gatherings like the European Parliament and the UN Commission on the Status of Women, Olivia isn’t shy to stand up for what she believes in. Surrogacy, she says, is exploitative and harmful – for both child and birth mother. Commercial surrogacy contracts can run to six figure sums: a tempting offer for a young woman in a vulnerable situation. Those who, after giving birth, regret their decision (and some do, says Olivia) can’t go back on their signed agreement. At a time when celebrity announcements of children born through a surrogate have become almost commonplace, Olivia is making enemies as well as friends – even the parents who raised her no longer speak to her since she spoke out against surrogacy.
In the UK, surrogacy is only recognised if it is altruistic, and a surrogate mother currently remains the legal parent until a parental order is eventually gained. However, the Law Commission recently recommended changes that favour parents who use surrogates, enabling them to get legal status as soon as the child is born. As a result of British media interest in the proposal, Olivia was offered a new platform on which to speak – and space on the cover of the Daily Mail newspaper.
Cover girl
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