MULL IT OVER

JONATHAN CHERRY: How are you being creative during this time of lock down?

FIONN HUTTON: I started out making one photograph a day for the month of April and posting it on instagram as a way of avoiding creative stagnation. It’s been helpful. I’m learning to hold the images I make lightly and steer clear of the perfectionist mindset that stops me from putting work out there. Initially, I made portraits of my neighbours in their gardens. I sat on top of a step ladder and spent time chatting to them, finding out how the virus was effecting their household before taking their photograph. The project started to evolve as I began revisiting the street where I was born. Some of the kids and families that I grew up with still live there. It’s cool, when the weathers nice they sit on their front step or with the windows open. I haven’t seen most of them in sixteen years or so. I think the work is turning into an exploration of memory through portraiture and found photographs.

JC: Have people responded well to being asked to have their portrait taken?

FH: So far most have been happy for me to photograph them. Excluding the Country’s essential workers, everyone is home and has been now for a month. People have more time on their hands and way less human interaction so I think the time we spend together over the fence is a welcome change. I know I take a lot from it.

In terms of the work I’m making where I grew up, neighbours have welcomed the opportunity to reconnect after such a long time. There were definitely some unsavoury characters on that road and it’s surrounding streets during my childhood. I crossed paths with but wasn’t recognised by, an elderly neighbour the other day. I remember being particularly scared of him, his wife and the doilies I could see through their bay window, draped across furniture in their living room. I instantly felt the urge to take their portrait. perhaps to overcome the negative memories?

I’m probably still scared of them. We’ll see how that one goes I guess.

JC: What advice would you give to others thinking of making personal work at this time?

FH: Find the joy in it.

It’s a global pandemic. People are losing their loved ones. If you are still finding ways of being creative I’d say that’s a major win, something to be grateful for.

JC: Could you share a story with us about one of your recent photographs.

FH: There’s so many. I definitely refer to the stories and process behind an image when deciding whether or not it ‘makes the cut’.

On one ocassion I had been battling the isolation mindset, struggling to grasp the good of the day or find the motivation to shoot anything. Time was slipping away and the fact that I hadn’t yet achieved my goal of making a daily photograph made me feel even less productive. I stepped out into the garden feeling flat and uninspired when I saw my neighbour from two doors down trimming back a hedge with some old garden sheers. I called over to Sue to ask if I could photograph her and she agreed. There was maybe ten minutes of natural light left so I ran upstairs to grab my camera. When I got back Sue was already packing her step ladder away, she wasn’t waiting for anyone. I barely had time to check the settings on my camera before photographing her as she stood between the shed and cherry tree. I love the image because I hadn’t planned it all. I couldn’t have. It was a moment that I was lucky to witness. It felt like an authentic photographic experience.

She stood there leaning against her step ladder, perfectly relaxed, with the last of the days light just above her head as I snapped away a handful of times.

“That’s enough matey” she said.

JC: What makes a successful portrait?

FH: Haha. I’m still trying to work that out for myself. I enjoy learning from those have more experience refining their own creative process.

I had a fantastic tutor at University, Chris Elliott who really encouraged us to see beyond the technicalities of the images we were creating. During an experimental filmmaking module, he played a piece of classical music and asked that we took our time digesting what we could hear before translating it onto paper. There were plenty of abstract responses, none of them invalid but definitely some telling interpretations. One guy at the back of the class was reluctant to share his work for fear of looking silly. He’d drawn a cat chasing a mouse, set in a Grand Canyon type environment, lit by the moonlight.

To our surprise that was almost the exact reality that had once inspired the composer, cat, mouse, moonlight and all. The piece of music had connected with the guy at the back of the class. It inspired imaginative and creative thinking that connected him with the essence of the moment it had first been created in.

I think a successful portrait should do the same. The image maker has the opportunity to transport it’s audience through the frame and back to the moment and place that it was created.

JC: What is your day job and how have you found not being able to work in the same way while in lock down?

FH: I’m a film lighting technician so would usually be on set right now. The work had begun slowing down with jobs canceling and crew, talent, or clients pulling out for fear of getting sick. Very quickly there was no work at all for us as freelancers in the film industry. Everyone was freaking out as the Government had only mentioned financial support for employed workers. We just had to sit tight and wait.

It’s been just over six weeks since I had the chance to work and earn on a film set. I think I struggle not being needed. At work if I turn up ten minutes late there’s going to be problems, these days I could stay in bed all day and no one would bat an eyelid. I suppose I’m fine-tuning my self-discipline. getting up early, reading, and shooting. I think this is the pace of life I was made for. It’s a really beautiful way of living.

JC: What kind of photographic work are you hoping to do once lockdown ends?

FH: Environmental and studio portraiture.

JC: Give us an example of contemporary portrait photographers who inspire you at the moment?

FH: There’s a couple of photographers that I always go back to. Spencer Murphy being one of them. He finds fantastic access to interesting subjects. It’s as if he gets right to the centre of a community and works his way outwards from there using his camera. He’s definitely got a very distinctive style of portraiture. Both his project “Gypsy And Traveller Horse Fairs” and his book “Urban Dirt Bikers” demonstrate how well he can permeate seemingly closed-off sections of society. Big Fan!

I’ve recently got my hands on Jack Latham’s “Sugar Paper Theories”. It feels like you’re reading a murder mystery novel, an official police report and looking through someone’s personal account of a disappearance all at once. The work explores the effects of memory distrust syndrome during a murder investigation so you end up really examining the portraits that Latham makes of surviving suspects, whistle blowers and conspiracy theorists. It’s fascinating.

Just before lockdown I managed to see the portraits that Pat Martin made of his troubled mother at the National Portrait Gallery. They’re really beautiful but also quite uncomfortable. I can see why they won first place in the Taylor Wessing Portrait Prize.

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JONATHAN CHERRY: How are you managing to stay creative during lock down?

PETER FLUDE: Normally I find my inspiration in the unfamiliar; whether that’s places, people or stories. Being locked down has forced me to turn instead to the familiar aspects of my life such as family and home for creativity. I’m isolating with my Mum and sister and have been taking my camera on most of our daily walks. During these walks I’ve found creativity in focusing on how the weather transforms the landscape around where I live, comparing the light each day and paying attention to how it falls on the environment. These simple aspects of nature which I don’t usually take notice of have been helping me to see my home in an unfamiliar way, and motivate me to keep shooting.

Being a portrait photographer, I’m obviously inspired by the human element of photography, so I’ve found myself turning the camera on my family a lot more than usual. Most of the time this has just been for unrehearsed portraits or natural light studies, but they all seem to reflect a sense of isolation. As well as my family, I’ve been out most Thursday evenings photographing my neighbours during the weekly clap. We’ve had a few people put on some impromptu performances from their driveways and street corners. For instance, one 89 year old neighbour performed a keyboard rendition of ‘We’ll Meet Again’ for our street a couple of weeks ago. Moments like these have been keeping me in touch with the unfamiliar.

JC: Have you found it an easy process to photograph your family and equally what have they thought of the experience?

PF: One thing that has been challenging in the past is their awareness of themselves as subjects. Like a lot of people, they have a tendency to either freeze, fix their hair, or pose and acknowledge the camera in some way when they notice it’s pointed at them.

The trick has been getting them comfortable with the presence of a camera and using careful direction to help them get over the awkwardness of being photographed. By now my family is used to my camera being pretty much an extension of myself, but as with most people I photograph, there’s often an element of self consciousness which I have to help them overcome.

JC: Do you have a daily routine to your picture making or has it been less structured?

PF: For me it’s been less routine and more spontaneous. Generally I’ve just been taking my camera out with me and seeing what inspires me. I haven’t been trying to force myself to shoot too much and luckily I’ve managed to stay inspired, which I think is partly down to the time of the year. Early summer always feels quite nostalgic for me and I can draw creativity from that.

JC: Tell us a little bit about your selection and editing processes?

PF: Image selection is both my best friend and worst enemy. I love looking back at my photos and editing them, but like a lot of photographers I sometimes struggle with culling them down, so it can definitely be a frustrating process. If I stare at an image for too long I’ll stop looking at it objectively. Stepping away from the screen for a while or even getting a second opinion can be useful if I’ve been agonising over some photos for a while. It’s a part of my process that I’m always trying to get more efficient at.

JC: What makes a successful portrait in your opinion?

PF: That’s a tough question as a lot of the time it’s just based on instinct for me. A good portrait is one that achieves a balance of good composition, light and expression. But I think a great portrait can reveal something about the character of the subject and create a real connection with the viewer. That’s a lot harder to achieve and I don’t think there’s ever a magic formula to it. But it’s something I’m always chasing!

JC: Favourite tree?

PF: I’m a fan of big evergreens. I have family in Sweden so I spent a lot of time there growing up, and a lot of my early photographic inspiration came from wandering through deep Swedish forests. So I’ll take a good Swedish pine or fir tree any day.

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JONATHAN CHERRY: What is your recent work all about?

LUKE HARBY: I’m working on a project at the moment that references trickery, conjuring, sleight of hand and alchemy.

JC: Where do you draw inspiration from?

LH: Astronomy, geometry, geology, radiography, metaphysics, conjuring, tricks of scale, trompe l'oeil, space, volume, representation, abstraction, illustration, illusion.

JC: How did you come to use photography as your artistic output?

LH: I went to art college, although I was a total dilettante. Not particularly skilled in any one area.

After I graduated I always seemed to have a camera on me. I shot 35mm for years, then got into medium format and more recently large format. However most of what I made prior to 2013 is garbage, although I admit it allowed me to ‘cut my teeth’.

I was always attracted by the speed of photography, and it’s seductive, laconic charm. However most of the projects I now work on seem to take more than a year to realise. So the speed of clicking the shutter has been offset by other preparatory tasks.

JC: What was it specifically about the speed of photography that you found attractive?

LH: Painting, even in acrylic, means investing hours of work before being able to see the finished product, and you also need a patient sitter if painting a portrait. With photography the whole thing can be over in 1/60th of a second.

In addition I realised that if I wanted to explore the subject, the space around the subject, the lighting, the scale and the angle I can view the subject from, all of this can quickly and easily be experimented with via a camera. All of this leant itself to the nature of my practice and the themes I wanted to explore.

Of course the same can still be investigated through painting, and I certainly do not wish to denigrate painting, but I feel the pace is different.

JC: How do you find juggling personal photography but also working full time as a web developer?

LH: I have a pretty good balance, some more time in the studio would be nice. I work from home a fair bit so working out of the studio is an option. Also the photography tends to come in nice chunks and I usually plough through it relatively quickly. After that are periods of waiting for the films to be processed and returned to me and then of course editing and planning the next shoot.

I would say my professional work is semi-creative, and I have been looking at ways to try and integrate my knowledge of code into my creative practice. For one upcoming project I will be travelling to a remote darkroom in the middle of a forest. I’m in the process of trying to programme robots with lasers in order to draw randomised photograms for me.

JC: Your work with robots sound super interesting. What other code/photography plans have you got in the pipeline?

LH: Some time ago I made a project photographing paper models of icebergs. A by-product of that project was to use one of the images on a page on my site. Every time a visitor accesses the page the image deteriorates ever so slightly. Even if there are no visitors to the page there is an additional tiny decrement to the image quality every day. I’ve never actually publicised this project so maybe this is the time to do it: https://slackwise.org.uk/iceberg-project/

Another concept I have been playing with is a collaboration with another photographer where we display a selection of our images online, but the presentation of these images is somewhat cryptic. I’m still fleshing this out, but one notion might be that only a small selection of images are visible at one time (possibly fading in and out), and it’s not easy to differentiate whose is whose work.

I’m also thinking of trying to develop a shop on my site, one idea is to have the ability to purchase digital files from a portfolio of images, but not know which one you receive until after the transaction has completed.

I also built this: http://fermynwoods.org/toggler/

JC: What draws you to film photography?

LH: It’s nice woking with a physical object, even if it’s paper thin. I don’t do a huge amount of darkroom work, but I feel that is something anyone interested in photography should try. There is some sort of voodoo between exposing light through the negative to seeing the final image develop, especially in a colour darkroom which is almost entirely pitch black.

I’m also interested in trying to work against the medium. Testing how the negative can be 'bent. I’m interested in artists who explore camera-less photography as well as the 'object-ness’ of the negative. There is also a sort of mania to shooting film, especially large format. It’s painful and expensive and you don’t get to see anything for a few days. Maybe there is something in me that enjoys this obstacle.

JC: What is your favourite tree?

LH: Libertia grandiflora.

A plant rather than a tree. If I had to pick a tree I like a Japanese Maple or an Acer.

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JONATHAN CHERRY: How did your ideas for Nothing’s Coming Soon start?

CLAY JORDAN: Although this may be too reductionist, a lot of photographers either know what they are going to shoot beforehand or they leave it up to chance (ie. whatever they may stumble across that catches his/her eye). My M.O. with Nothing’s Coming Soon was distinctly the latter - I simply walked around with my camera and photographed what I found interesting or noteworthy. It was only after amassing a large number of negatives that I began to notice themes and motifs emerging that could be sequenced together to form a somewhat cohesive body of work.

JC: What themes and motifs did you begin to notice in those early days of shooting and how did you go about developing that into something more substantial?

CJ: Honestly, I did not really stop and analyze while shooting to figure out what my photographs “meant” or what themes were emerging. I’m a big proponent in shooting frequently and in copious amounts; if one does this and trusts one’s instincts , distinct themes will emerge simply because each photographer has singular preoccupations that reveal themselves over time. That being said, a few themes that emerged from my first year of shooting: death, decay, and beauty.

JC: Tell us a little more about image 4 (above)…

CJ: This image was taken in a very small town in Georgia - the name of which escapes me. The type of town where 100 years ago it was thriving, but now barely hangs on. Most of the stores were closed and the infrastructure was crumbling , so the mural pictured accurately depicts the state of the town. This picture appears to be of some type of civic building and could be interpreted as a comment on the impotence and discord found within the U.S. government at the moment. This image is poignant but also grimly humorous; I like it when images can produce conflicting emotions that complicate the reading.

This is the type of image that is successful because I found it and documented it. The unlikely (lucky?) part was me discovering this - the framing and taking of the picture were easy. If you search for long enough and keep your eyes open, you will eventually discover these magical, fully formed images that seem like gifts from beyond.

JC: In Eric William Carroll’s Crisis of Experience he writes: “While filming his newborn son, McElwee soberly acknowledges that one cannot both experience and document something at the same time” (read more here). What are your thoughts on this?

CJ: I wholeheartedly agree: to engage in the act of photography is to observe rather than participate. For me, it is all or nothing; when I have a camera in my hand and am hunting for images, it is hard for me to interact in a meaningful way with others because I am analyzing everything in my field of vision to determine whether it would “work” as a picture.

This complete immersion is easy to disengage from once I put the camera down, but I often wonder about legendary, prolific figures like Winogrand and Friedlander, whose output is enormous. Was it difficult for them to socialize after being behind a camera for days on end? By incessantly photographing, does one eventually become a voyeur of one’s own experiences? Could the act of photography serve, for some, as a way to avoid interacting with the world at large?

JC: What is next for you photographically?

CJ: I am constantly shooting, but have not settled on a theme or distinct body of work to pursue next. I am attending the Anderson Ranch residency in Colorado from October to December and plan to make a lot of work out there… Not sure what exactly I will shoot in such a snowy landscape - perhaps my practice will become more studio based? The restrictions and obstacles posed by this residency will be good as they will force me to reevaluate my current practice, which has become a bit predictable.

JC: How do you find juggling personal and commercial work?

CJ: Switching between the two is very easy because I do not do any commercial work! I have done one or two weddings in the past and found them disagreeable and stressful. Everyone wants the “happily ever after” photos, which feel contrived and the opposite of the type of photography I love.

I am sure engaging in commercial shoots would hone my technical skills, but the act of photographing for a paycheck would over time dampen my enthusiasm for picture-making. A few artists such as Viviane Sassen and Roe Ethridge adeptly straddle the art and commercial divide, and I admire their ability to do so. If I were ever approached to do a commercial project that was compelling, I would consider it, but that has not happened thus far. I prefer to teach and find it exciting to mentor fledgling artists.

JC: What is your favourite camera to use at the moment?

CJ: I have mixed feelings about equipment talk. The photography world is rife with folks who discuss their gear incessantly and conflate owning a Leica with being a “serious” photographer. On the other hand, there is something inherently beautiful and elegant about many cameras, which makes the fascination seem justified.

A great benefit to me when working on Nothing’s Coming Soon was to minimize my process, which involved using just one main camera - a medium format Mamiya 7. This allowed me to concentrate on creating images, not obsessing over equipment. Also, by sticking with just one piece of gear for an extended period of time, I was able to work efficiently because I knew the camera so well.

Now that this project is done, I’ve been shooting with a little 35mm Olympus Stylus Epic point and shoot film camera that I found for $2 at a thrift stores. After having to be so deliberate with the Mamiya, it’s nice to photograph more spontaneously.

JC: Favourite tree?

CJ: Not sure if I have ever been asked this question… Hmmm, let the record indicate that I adore trees, but am willfully ignorant of their scientific or common name, despite my mother telling me the name of every plant and tree we pass when walking together. However, there are certain trees ingrained in my memory simply because of their magnificence - the leading contender being the redwoods at the Sequoia National Park in California. Seeing these regal specimens will make any intelligent creature realize the utmost importance in preserving our rapidly vanishing wildlife.

I currently live in Athens, Georgia and there is a famous white oak here known as the tree that owns itself. The owner of the tree in question was so enamoured with its beauty, that before passing he decreed: For and in consideration of the great love I bear this tree and the great desire I have for its protection for all time, I convey entire possession of itself and all land within eight feet of the tree on all sides — William H. Jackson The original tree fell in a storm, but another was planted and the Son of the Tree that Owns Itself is still standing and recognized as independent.

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JONATHAN CHERRY: Why America?

THOMAS HUMERY: Pasolini used to say that you could have two ways to answer great questions, with a joke or with a thesis. Knowing that I’d like to try to answer you shortly but with some meaning. I’m pretty attracted by the ideas of paradox, contradiction or ambiguity that I don’t take necessarly as opposition or confrontation. Beyond the fact that I travel there since I’m a young boy, America is geographically and culturaly talking a continent I chose to be the place of an intimacy, experimental and almost inner project. An almost scientific mission that I do in an experimental and subjective way. It’s like transforming a sort of National Geographic into a private log with the landscapes i cross and the people I meet and I stage. The idea of being alone facing something very huge where I would be an outsider, a foreigner, someone almost invisible in a unfitted situation is simply something poetic that I like. There is this way a strong relation here with The Great American Vernacular Encyclopedia and the American tradition of taking the road for an unknown destination like it The Wizzard of Oz. It’s like a perpetual initiation. An another reason, and following the idea of paradox, is that America is totally real and unreal in the same time and I found that rather fascinating. I have always been interested with the complicated relation between “reality” and “fiction” and America gives me the opportunity to have something even more complex to observe.

JC: How have you found making this work in the States along with juggling commissioned work back home?

TH: I like this question because it’s really pragmatic. It’s funny that we still have this romantic idea about artists being almost evanescent entity having no needs and able to produce anything with no resource. Being an unsponsored artist nowadays is more than challenging and in the most of cases impossible: after a while talented and promising people just give up and try to found a regularly paid job before being too disconnected from the jobmarket. So it is very important to find a way to sustain your art. Concerning my personal case, airline tickets, accomodation, car rental, 4x5 films, lab processing and inherent travelling fees can represent a certain amount of money and the budget comes from my commisionned works in Paris. I have developped collaborations with a lot of different newspapers and magazines for 15 years and I just hope that they don’t forget about me when it comes to shoot a story where my imagery could do it well. However, I have noticed that travelling two times a year in the United States for some weeks, people in Paris are inclined to think that I am never here, so never available which is a bit problematic. Moreover, I have to admitt that posting on Instagram maintain the illusion. So bit by bit I throw myself in a situation where I start to be “invisible” both in the United States and in Paris. All considered, the juggling situation should be transitional and I wish I would find in the future a way to make The Great American Vernacular Encyclopedia a bit more self sufficient and in particular with gallery exhibitions like these days at Books and Photographs gallery in Paris.

JC: What initially drew you to photography as a medium?

TH:I have studied French at the University in the early 90’s. At this time, it was still a bit in fashion to pay attention to “Le nouveau roman” or what we called also “L'école du regard”, roughly presenting french avant-garde literature of the 50’s-60’s where the descriptions were very photographic and precise without any kind of psychologization. I found that pretty interesting at the time. Then I have studied Cinema where I was into scriptwriting. Photography was pretty much in the middle of that, a sort of good compromise linking all these disciplines and aesthetics. I was maybe wrong theoretically talking but that was my feeling. I try always to trust my feelings first.

JC: Since you are a self taught photographer - what advice would you give to other photographers starting out today who, perhaps not interested in University?

TH:It’s not easy to give just one advice since photography is both a practice and a vision requiring a multitude of elements. So I would give you this little personal guide. First, your potential talent does not depend on your technical background or on your material. For sure, you would have to assimilate perfectly some simple optic and mathematical rules, you would have to work with decent material but it’s doesn’t determinate radically what you’d like to express or transmit. You would have to avoid the search of the « good picture » and being more focused on finding your own expression and methodology and developing your faculty to generate your own imagery. It doesn’t mean that your expression has to me isolated from the others. I would even say that your language would have to set some subtle visible or invisible links with some other photographic and un-photographic expressions. A school with teachers and mates could be very helpful to build that frame that you would need. Doing that on your own is very challenging and would definitely take way more time. In some cases, some years. The good aspect is, if you are patient enough, that your vision and your style would maybe more personal and more distinctive than graduates under influence. Still some good advices could be helpful on this long way where at the end of it (if there is one?) you would know a little bit more about yourself:

• Build yourself a very strong iconography culture mixing photography, painting and cinema.

• Practice photography on regular basis (it’s like yoga, more you do the best you are)

• Try to draw links (not too obvious or not too cryptic) between your images in order to build series or a set (it’s helpful to clarify what you are doing)

• Avoid self-indulgence and try to disconnect the pleasant souvenir of the picture taking from the actual picture and ask yourself - did I reach my target? what exactly my picture suggests?

• Avoid complexity and over ambition, try just to be simple and you’ll see that it’s already pretty hard to get.

• if you are disappointed by one of your pictures try to understand why - there is a multitude of factors that could make you fail.

• Try to describe in few words your work and the atmosphere of it and try to keep it (some elements would emerge).

• Take pictures of your own environment first : friends, family, neighbours, area… it’s nice to know that you know what you are « talking » about… being a beginner and taking pictures of an environment that you know nothing about would provide uncertain results.

• When you’re ready and feel confident go somewhere alone just to take pictures and nothing else - that immersion would for sure give you a key experience.

• Learn to make a good editing : a small selection of pictures with a vision is way better than a long set of images hesitating between different options.

• Show your work only when you are pretty convinced and satisfied of it. Showing your work when you are not ready can be risky. However photo editors like newcomers and are most of the time happy to discover the freshness of a new talent.

• Do some prints: an image is an object and the best way to test it is to find the right size of it, then tape your print(s) on a wall, you will find the truth of it and it could be a real epiphany.

• If you like to start tomorrow, consider to start with a analogic 35mm camera that you can buy for less than 100 pounds and work on manual mode and a notebook. That would be the best way to understand really what your are doing. Since you are a self though photographer you would basically trust your own experience.

JC: What is next for you photographically?

TH: I have started The Great American Vernacular Encyclopedia project seven years ago. Two times a year I travel in America in order to complete or to open some chapters in new locations. The making of the project is a bit unsual since it’s always in progress and has no time limit. It’s a perpetual challenge of inception and improvement. Each trip, which is always pretty consuming, is a confrontation with a new environment but also with my own vision or inspiration. The photography might be somewhere in between. What is next to me photographically is to maintain that dynamic made of empirical experience and necessary invention. To be more factual, I’m planning to go back to Utah after two years and to spend some time in Arizona that I don’t know. I’d like also to complete my “Twentynine Palms” series in the Mojave desert in Southern California and initiate a new book project about imaginary southern arc that would connect Savannah, New Orleans and Houston.

JC: Tell us more about the new book project?

TH: Recently I have been back to Savannah, New Orleans and Houston to add new pictures to some previous series. I believe I have reached a certain architecture and climate with each of them. Then I was thinking I could bound these three southern locations in a book that could be seen both as a geographic joint and as a personal trajectory, both as a description and as a vision. It could look like a National Geographic but instead of being scientific or journalistic It would developp a more introspectif and mysterious vibe. Before doing any kind of graphic design or layout, I guess you have to define a sort of abstract concept and a specific mood a bit like the making of a piece of art. I have noticed that aleatory construction never really works in that matter. An unvisible structure is required and it’s pretty hard to get.

JC: How is Paris this time of year?

TH: Paris is well I guess. It’s a beautiful city but I have to admit that after a while I dream about tripping in the middwest or in the californian desert. I need my dose of adventure and it’s maybe sad to say but Paris doesn’t inspire me at all.

JC: When did you last see the sunrise?

TH: I’m more a sunset person than a sunrise. If I have to wake up very early it’s certainly because I have a train or a plane to catch and I would delay this mystic moment for some other time. There is for sure a gratification to observe a sunrise but I really remember few of them. Still the last one that still bright in my mind was in Monument Valley when I was camping in a tente, like two years ago, near by the Mitten rocks.

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JONATHAN CHERRY: Tell us why you started We Shared the Same Color that Evening and what is it all about?

BRIAN LAU: It’s a fragmented portrait of a family that doesn’t exist, one that eventually helps/is helping contextualize my feelings, ones that are often very polarizing and in need of some objectivity. I think I wanted to articulate these feelings, and create a somewhat defeated, yet optimistic, look at what is still here among several divided families.

JC: What inspires you?

BL: Generally speaking, I’m naturally inspired by other photographers (namely Ian Kline, McNair Evans, Curran Hatleberg, Mark Steinmetz, etc.), contemporary filmmakers like Hideaki Anno, Hirokazu Kore-Eda, Isao Takahata, Andrei Tarkovsky, etc.), a sometimes fleeting and obsessive curiosity for neighbors and partners, as well as just walks around Issaquah Valley and traveling across the state.

JC: What draws you to McNair Evans’ work?

BL: I recently bought his book “Confessions for a Son,” and what immediately drew me to it was the pure emotional, and visceral quality of the images, something that truly felt like “poetry.” The extremely delicate and metaphorical use of light through the images too lends a very romantic and never overly-sentimental eye, an approach I’m strongly drawn to. But as a whole, he seems to work in very consciously placed images, and very concise concepts for projects, which in my opinion as a reader, makes it a very fluid experience, and one in which I’m more focused and emotionally attuned to the themes of the given project, which both elevates the viewing experience to something more appropriately metaphorical, and casts a more detailed account of an event or idea being covered. While I enjoy a lot of traditional Americana documentary photography, I personally feel unsure of what I’m supposed to be feeling and unsure as to why certain images are included in a project, where it would typically come off as unfocused and at times bloated, I really like that McNair Evans’ work is grounded in traditional documentary, yet elevated by his concepts, visual consistency, and intensity in exploring both. That combination of emotional and visceral quality across images is definitely something I’m hoping to adapt in my own work as well.

JC: Do you find it an easy process making personal work?

BL: Not really, though I tend to photograph diaristically with a camera over my shoulder most of the time, the outcome in my mind needs to be more visceral and revealing, which is often a very difficult task when the technical requirements are so tough to match in a situation/moment unfolding that I think is indicative of the person/theme I’m trying to encapsulate. I find myself reacting to situations moreso than propelling them, and due to my (typically) strong familial connection with my subjects, most images are disqualified from being used for primarily two reasons: being inaccurate and contrived in its depiction, being visually or technically inconsistent with the rest of my work. On a logistical aspect, my families are literally separated, some living in Hawaii, some living in Illinois, some living in Vietnam, sometimes never seeing them for upwards of 5 years in-between visits, this all factoring into how non-ideal and infrequent I can make work, specifically for this project.

JC: Where are your currently living and how does it shape you and your work?

BL: I am currently living in the valley of Issaquah, Washington, which is stunningly gorgeous and isolated for the most part from the rest of the Western side of the state. On one hand, the beauty of the lake and mountains nearby lend a near-perfect setting for my work (personal and editorial), on the other the location alone makes it difficult to meet new people, specifically artists and mentors. That said, technically speaking, Seattle becomes once again non-ideal for photographing if not for the rain and overcast weather, where the quality of light becomes more infrequent. I think this forces a more deliberate approach to making work, where the infrequency of making work, or rather the opportunities to do so, give me more time and reflection, and general appreciation for what I can make/experience. I used to live in Hawaii with my Dad’s side of the family, and I think it’s really easy to take the weather/availability of people for granted, resulting in photographs that feel too inconsequential and unearned in my opinion. I only mention the weather as much as I do because of the nature of my work is almost dependent upon the environment it is shot in, the parks and spaces, but especially the color and light.

JC: What do you shoot on?

BL: I shoot primarily on my Mamiya 7, though the majority of my work prior was shot on the Pentax 6x7 or a Mamiya 645.

JC: What is it that draws you to medium format over other mediums?

BL: I think it’s just the most accessible medium, I’ve made a lot of personal work on 35mm negatives before, and DSLR’s, but medium format seems to be just mobile enough that I can get into spaces that are otherwise difficult to maneuver around, while maintaining the necessary detail and scope that I appreciate technically. Eventually I’ll most likely be able to swap between 35mm/medium format/large format/DSLR, but for the time being medium format seems like the appropriate choice, also lending to the manner in which I photograph, I don’t shoot a lot and DSLR/35mm always felt excessive to me.

JC: How do you find juggling personal and commercial work?

BL: It’s kinda satisfying to finish a project that can be completed on a smaller scale, both in time, quantity, and a conceptual level. I think of it in a way as practice, where the degree of effort I put into editorials and tests are significantly different, yet still maintaining the same style across both genres, which helps my approach in either personal or commercial, one feeding into the other. Sometimes I’m lucky and the same people can cross genres as well, I guess it depends on who I’m working with.

JC: What are you looking forward to in 2019?

BL: Looking forward to moving to Brooklyn this summer, I’ve never been there nor the entire East Coast, but I’m hoping for a drastic change in who I’m around, what opportunities I may have (career-wise and in terms of gallery/shows, I rarely if ever do or go to those in Seattle), and I suppose a genuine challenge. I hope to complete, or near complete, my current project, as well as go on several trips for a new photo documentary on fatherhood/boyhood in California, Illinois, Eastern Washington, and hopefully moreso in New York.

JC: Favourite tree?

BL: Cedar!

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