Archive page:



Mathias Schmitt

“A photograph says more about you than the objects you capture”

Taking us on a trip through the streets of Detroit, winding through the urban landscape in a Dodge Polara, passing old cafés and nightclubs – Mathias Schmitt tells a refreshing story of inner-city culture with his photography. Looking at his work as a whole, it presents itself as a cinematic mapping of an urban daydream. Capturing candid exchanges with locals and shedding light on the overlooked nooks and crannies of public spaces, Schmitt’s eye is unwavering, and never fails to channel the energy of the places he immerses himself in.

Inspired by the vibrancy and diversity of different subcultures, DIY aesthetics, music, fashion and photography icons such as Wolfgang Tillmans and Jürgen Teller, Schmitt’s work has a youthful spirit and reveals a strong love and appreciation for photography’s social potential and as a medium itself.

Finding inspiration and comfort in the everyday occurrences of city life and fuelled by a sense of inner freedom, Schmitt navigates urban photography with ease, constantly developing a sense of personal awareness.

NR Magazine speaks with the photographer to discuss how city life and the concept of identity has shaped his creative outlook.

You mentioned that Wolfgang Tillman’s book ‘Burg’ was a huge influence for you and your photography. Could you talk a bit more about that? What about this style of photography impacted you the most?

‘Burg’ hit me in 1998 when I was 20. Exploring different subcultures and aesthetics, this book presented me with a completely new world – it felt like a revelation. I didn’t know anything about cultural history, photo-technique or photography and its culture. While I was lightyears away from a full understanding, what affected me most was this certain kind of view, the glimpses, the candid faces, the natural collection of people, moments, and situations. I fell in love with this idea of being able to create images where I could share something with people who feel the same as I do, so I decided to become a photographer instead of continuing my plan of becoming a social worker.

Are there any other aspects of German culture that have influenced your work? And what was the photography scene like when you were growing up in Germany?

I don’t think German culture has specifically influenced me, but subcultures have always fascinated me. I liked the idea of being a part of something, of identifying with something separate from the mainstream. MTV was an issue back then, and magazines like Spex, Jetzt and Musikexpress drove me nuts with their photography. Kira Bunse, Sandra Stein, Wolfgang Tillmans and Jürgen Teller were people that I looked up to as well.

Some of your work shows an affinity for the city of Detroit. What other places do you draw inspiration from?

I can get inspiration from anywhere – a conversation, a person crossing the street, a train ride or just the desire to have a coffee at a specific place.

There’s so much joy in being able to travel to different places.

“An open and curious mind can bring you everything, even without asking for anything.”

Your work explores different aspects of urban life, capturing distinctive flashes of cities and their inhabitants. Are intimate moments or personal connections something you try to capture with your work?

Personal connections can be found in all sorts of things, like music, culture, fashion and food. I’m a huge fan of explorations – those distinctive flashes of cities and their inhabitants, of moments and their participants. Being in someone’s company with or without a camera can be a great gift. Sometimes you don’t know anything about the person in front of you, but it can also feel in some way very intimate when you’re both aware of that situation. I wouldn’t say that I aim to capture intimacy, but it is a very important aspect of taking a portrait.

You have a great interest in cars as well – where does this come from?

I like cars that have something to say. The presentation of a silhouette from a 1973 Dodge Polara or a 1969 Buick GS is fascinating to me. Imagining having a nice car trip for me, feels like a mental holiday.

How do you see yourself as the artist behind the lens? Do you try to influence your shots at all or is it more a case of it being a relaxed and natural process?

It is extremely important for me to be aware of when I can intervene and when I need to take a step back. Some pictures are accompanied by a certain casualness that is deliberate, rather than being something that happens by chance and from inexperience. Of course, I influence the frame, lighting, and shutter speed, but I’m a huge fan of sincerity. I’m not interested in phony smiles.

What aspects and aesthetics of city life stand out the most to you? 

Being able to find everything you can imagine behind every corner, finding joy in privacy with strangers when you’re in public places, sitting alone in a café for 8 hours in a city you’ve never been to. Meeting people with different visions, different stories, finding places of joy – that’s exciting to me. I think these are the fascinating aspects of city life.

Has growing up in the countryside affected your attitude towards cities and more urbanised areas? Cities have a different kind of energy and vibrancy to them, but do you feel a particular connection with the rural landscape?

“Growing up in the countryside sharpened my senses for my surroundings.”

The isolation protected me from unwanted influences. Traveling from the countryside to bigger cities always brought about a sense of romance. I’ve always been thankful to come back to a calm place where I can separate my thoughts from what’s unwanted to what’s needed.

Do you find photography brings you a sense of identity and autonomy – particularly when visiting cities?

Identity is shaped by emotions, and photography gives me the opportunity to share these emotions. A photograph says more about you than the objects you capture. When I realised this, I fell in love with that approach, and I freed myself from all competition. I don’t expect everybody to understand or to engage with my work.

When I decided to become a photographer, I wasn’t aware of all the power it has as a medium, but I felt an immense freedom. The people I’ve met abroad and the situations I’ve been in with them has given me a sense of personal awareness.

Your series ‘Mittelkonsolen’ was inspired by the work of Hans Peter Feldmann and has references to the era of cassettes and CDs. You’ve also mentioned that reading music and skate magazines as a teenager had a big impact on you. Do you often try to channel a sense of nostalgia in your work? What is it that appeals to you about those times?  

I think that using an analogue camera requires concentration, both for myself and for the participant. I’m a fan of the concept of nostalgia but I don’t particularly try to reference that in my work. We’re in a time of great technical development, but that’s not always enough. Everything must be faster, cheaper, easier – we want everything, and we want it now, no matter what.

‘Mittelkonsolen’ is an ode to a certain state of mind. The fact that you have to think about travelling and your choice of music, the atmosphere of your trip and its limitations – all that appears to me as something very logical and beautiful.

Have you discovered anything about yourself through your photography?

Separate from my images, I noticed a certain reservation in my work. I stopped caring about the specifics of how my work might be seen by others. Inner freedom is very important to me, and photography helps me channel that throughout my life.

Are there any aspects of your own life that you aim to interrogate through your photographs?

Besides photography, music plays a really important role in my life. Both mediums have almost no boundaries and provide me with a kind of shelter, allowing me to express and to address myself. Identity can be both fragile and strong, and I think the same applies to photography.

Credits

www.mathiasschmitt.com
Images · MATHIAS SCHMITT

Kayra Atasoy

“if I don’t experience and understand the moment I’m capturing, I can’t capture it properly”

Dissatisfied with Turkish society’s attitude towards the country’s contemporary youth culture, photographer Kayra Atasoy captures the power and momentum of techno and rave culture in her project ‘Blame the Youth’ and uses the medium of photography as an outlet to explore and express aspects of her own identity. The ongoing project is inspired by the autonomy of the Berlin rave scene – a subculture that Atasoy resonates strongly with. Atasoy captures candid moments of these subcultures in her own country, that reflect the honesty and sense of freedom that she values most about these underground collectives.

‘Blame the Youth’ not only reflects the angst of the photographer, but also serves as a kind of visual manifesto for Turkey’s emergent youth culture, who Atasoy claims is simultaneously overlooked and criticized by the country’s older generation. The series features the influence of rave culture from overseas and how social spaces have been reshaped during the Coronavirus pandemic.

In the early hours of the morning, when time is irrelevant and all limitations disappear, Atasoy observes everyone’s true selves. It is in these magical moments that she is able to investigate her own identity through the lens.

NR Magazine speaks with Atasoy to learn more about the inspiration behind the project and what it is like being part of the subcultures she documents.

What initially attracted you to photography as an artistic medium?

For me, photography is a profession that offers immense excitement to my life.

A camera provides me with all the power of capturing, interpreting, and reflecting my point of view of a single moment, which is an amazing feeling. My way of truly living and experiencing life is through observing. Regardless of the topic, I always feel the strong urge to observe and watch. This is one of the main reasons I chose photography as an artistic medium. I love to observe life, and I love reflecting on the way I perceive it. Photography is my way of communicating my own perspective.

What’s been the biggest lesson learned from creating your series ‘Blame the Youth’? Have you discovered anything about yourself in the process?

One of the main things I learned was how various aspects of my life such as my environment and my mental health affect my work directly, and how this happens without me even realising it. One of the biggest takeaways I got from ‘Blame the Youth’ was that it helped me to fully understand what I want to do with my life.

Could you talk a bit about how you feel Turkish society blames the youth?

Unfortunately, I think we are a minority in Turkey. I believe the ‘youth’ that has been blamed by society is representing a minority. This isn’t something I’m always reminded of, as I’m always surrounded by this ‘minority’. Our struggles, our ways of having fun and creating aren’t understood by the rest of Turkish society. I think ‘Blame the Youth’ is a unique resource. It doesn’t matter where I take my photos; I could take photos for this project in Turkey, Germany, Spain, etc. The places where I feel this sense of ‘blame’ changes of course. I’m not a professional – I’m still trying and learning. Most of the support I get for my work is from abroad. This is obviously really motivating, but at the same time, not getting the same support from my own country is a bit upsetting. Even though I’ve got appreciation and encouragement from the people around me, my work doesn’t get the overall support I hoped for from my country. ‘Blame the Youth’ is a project where the name and the photos both contradict and complement each other. I believe that this juxtaposition reflects the current attitudes towards Turkish youth culture within our society. In Turkey, people are used to being judged and blamed. We don’t feel safe the second we stray from our circles. We learn to live by the rules, limits, and judgemental looks. I think my work documents all the moments where society feels it has the right to judge us. It’s not only about the parties, alcohol, and drugs – it’s also about the way we dress and the way we choose to live. As I continued to travel and explore, I realised that the way I choose to live makes it hard to live peacefully in Turkey. As I’ve mentioned before,

“I’m not the best with words, so even though I can’t stand up to this problem verbally, I try to communicate my principles visually through my photography.”

Do you set out with an aim in mind for shooting, or is it more a case of enjoying the freedom of the moment? I imagine it makes more sense to go with the flow and to fully immerse yourself in the moment when photographing techno and rave culture. And is living in the moment important to you?

I’d say yes, as the foundation of my photos is rooted in being in the moment. I am always looking for ‘the moment’. Observing and capturing spontaneous moments gives me much more joy and excitement compared to setting up a shoot. It might seem like I’m missing out on the moment while trying to photograph it, but this is my way of experiencing that moment. I have a strong desire to show my interpretations of things. When I take photos for ‘Blame the Youth’, I don’t just stand back and observe – I experience the same moment with the people I photograph, and I think this has a great influence on that desire. I strongly believe that if I don’t experience and understand the moment I’m capturing, I can’t capture it properly.

“Even though it might seem like I’m just a bystander, I see myself as the main character living in that specific moment.”

Are there any particular aspects of the techno and rave scene that influence you the most?

The first time I experienced techno music was in Berlin. It was the first time I was introduced to this music culture, and it had an immense impact on me. After that, I started reading, researching, and listening to it more. After scratching the surface, I discovered that these rave scenes have so many levels to them. The rise of techno music after the fall of the Berlin Wall, empty factories were being taken over to host illegal raves and there was a lot of rebellion amongst the people who were separated by the wall – this affected me deeply. I realised how the rebellious nature of techno music correlates with Berlin’s history. Just like ‘Blame the Youth’, I also realized how these things are rooted in a specific frame of mind, and not solely about partying. This led me to give more thought and understanding towards the meaning of music and I began to watch people even closer. Even though techno and rave scenes don’t have the same history in Turkey, I wanted it to reflect the rebellion and suppression within itself.

How has your work been received in Turkey? Do you find your way of working to be controversial or rebellious?

As I mentioned before, my photographs haven’t received a lot of recognition in my country. Even though I took those photos in Turkey, I felt more understood by other countries. This is quite an upsetting situation, as I believe my work honestly reflects Turkey’s reality. To put it another way, despite Turkey’s prejudice and ignorance, we are here, and we will always be here. Our struggle isn’t built on our desire to be completely accepted. We just want to live freely and not feel any guilt or shame about it. I want to do my job freely and have fun doing so. For those reasons, I consider my work to be both controversial and rebellious.

“It’s a struggle to just live and to make ourselves seen.”

Do any aspects of your own life influence your work?

My life and the photos I take are pretty much integrated, and I love that. I’m a part of the culture that I try to photograph. When I’m photographing, I capture myself in some of the shots. I won’t work on ‘Blame the Youth’ forever, so I like to experiment with different ideas, and will continue to do so. I think ‘Blame the Youth’ will represent a culture and an era that will live on forever. I want to reflect on life the way I experience it. I don’t want to share a moment if I haven’t experienced it.

There is a story and a continuation of subjects in my work. The people I photograph are a part of my life, so I’m able to shoot them in a rave scene, and also capture them at home in a completely different atmosphere.

You’ve mentioned that Berlin is a big inspiration for your work, and how you felt a different sense of freedom there compared to being in Turkey. Could you talk a bit more about that?

In Turkey, it is hard to live as a woman, and it is even harder to stand on your own as a female artist. When I was in Berlin, I felt safer, and I had the chance to observe different subcultures. The government-supported techno parties are incredible. I think that was the reason I always considered Berlin to be my inspiration. I bought plane tickets to Berlin when I first got the chance. I stayed there by myself and got an incredible opportunity to observe. Every time I came back to Turkey, I just felt increasingly restricted. One of the biggest reasons for this was feeling judged – another core aspect of ‘Blame the Youth’. We were always told that we were doing something wrong.

“Being able to confidently say ‘I’m a photographer’ isn’t an easy thing to do in Turkey. That’s why I don’t feel like I truly belong in my country.”

How has the pandemic affected youth culture in Turkey? Have you found it a struggle to stay creative and inspired?

Two years ago, just when I started to recognise my career growth, the pandemic hit. Around that time, ‘Blame the Youth’ was getting recognition not just from Turkey, but around the world. When we were quarantined at home, it was a real struggle to find motivation. I forced myself to be motivated for a couple of months, and I realised that the potential of ‘Blame the Youth’ extended beyond the streets, clubs, and parties. The people I photographed were still the same, and so they would continue to be a part of this culture regardless of time and place. During the lockdown, I began to photograph moments of distress that we all felt. Throughout this period, I tried some work, but despite how much I tried, I found that I was always better at capturing an instantaneous moment. Even though I was working on editorials, I was only fully satisfied with these instantaneous little moments I captured. The lockdown provided us with a break to be introspective I turned my camera away from the chaos around me, and focussed on fewer interactions, fewer people, but still the same audience.

You’ve discussed capturing ‘magical moments’ – what do these moments look and feel like to you?

‘Magical moments’ are the moments where people are being their true and spontaneous selves. They are when I capture people dancing without the fear of being judged or watched. The photos I take are divided into two groups: the people who know that my camera is on them, and the people who don’t. When people are aware that they are being photographed, it disturbs the truth and the spontaneity of the moment. When people aren’t aware of the camera, I’m able to shoot pure moments that I define as being ‘magical’.

What are your favourite moments to photograph?

Probably the moments I capture without overthinking – they end up being the best possible moments. When I’m out there with my camera I’m always in a rush: observing, running, dancing – there’s only an instant between observing and shooting. I usually realise later that I pressed the shutter button at the perfect time, to capture a moment that I wouldn’t have been able to capture if I pressed the button even a second earlier. These are the shots that turn out to be the most satisfying ones. These are the shots where the subject is completely in their element, unaware they are part of this perfect moment. I always want to capture reality, but from my perspective.

What do you have planned for your work in the future?

After graduation, I would love to create a path that enables me to travel more and experience different cultures. I will be spending this winter in an analogue studio’s darkroom in Budapest for an internship. I’ve also received exhibition offers from London. If everything goes according to plan, I will spend around two weeks in London for this. I want to create deeper levels of meaning with ‘Blame the Youth’, whilst also observing new cultures and new people. I will eventually head back to Turkey, but for a while, I just want to travel and shoot. I want to be able to make a living through my photography. I can’t picture myself doing anything else.

Credits

Discover Kayra Atasoy’s work here www.kayraatasoy.com
Images KAYRA ATASOY

Jessamyn Lovell

“we can find power in the choice to engage in public sousveillance (surveillance of ourselves) but it also gives power away”

A wallet is stolen from a gallery in San Fransisco, just over a year later a woman receives a summons to appear in court for a petty crime she did not commit. It sounds like the beginning of a movie but for artist Jessamyn Lovell it was reality. She learned that her identity had been stolen by a woman named Erin Hart, who had been using her name to check into hotels, hire cars and to shoplift. As a way to help deal with the trauma of the situation, Lovell began the Dear Erin Hart project where she documented the process of tracking down and surveilling the woman who had stolen her identity.

Unable to find Erin Hart on her own Lovell hired a private detective and soon discovered that Hart was already in jail for a previous misdemeanour. However, upon Hart’s release Lovell and the P.I she had hired followed Hart around the city, photographing her. Lovell decided against contacting Hart directly and instead wrote the other woman a letter explaining the project to her. No reply was ever received. While Dear Erin Hart is perhaps Lovell’s most known work she is no stranger to documenting the lives of herself and others and it forms a central part of her practice. NR Magazine joined the artist in conversation.

What does Identity mean to you as an artist?

I have often used my artistic practice as a way to research and hopefully come closer to understanding the different and fluid aspects of who I am in relation to others. Throughout my life, I have assumed and shed many different identities, which have brought waves of immeasurable grief as well as limitless joy. I see my job as an artist to explore and reflect on these observations and discoveries to those that might see my findings as interesting and/or useful.

Do you think surveillance has become an integral and practically unnoticeable part of our lives given the rise of social media and apps having access to our phones at all times? How do you think this will affect us in the future?

I cannot really speak for other people’s experiences navigating public and private spaces but I certainly notice the mechanisms of oppression in every surveillance camera and security guard watching me. I have come to understand surveillance to be part of my everyday experience while doing what I can to avoid it. I see it as a gaze of sorts coming from systems of oppression. I think we can find power in the choice to engage in public sousveillance (surveillance of ourselves) but it also gives power away, especially for more vulnerable populations like young people who may not be as aware of the implications and lasting impact willingly sharing information might have. As a private investigator, social media is an important research tool in the work I do. As I have learned more and more about how much and what types of information you can learn about people online;

“I have personally pulled away from engaging in sousveillance on social media, which has compelled me to find other ways to artistically process my experiences.”

I think privacy is very rare these days and I only see that becoming more and more the case.

Can you tell me more about your work ‘No Trespassing’ where you documented your estranged father?

The gist of this project was that from 2007-2010 I found, followed and photographed my estranged father as a way to sort out if I could ever reach out to him or be in his life again.

“My father tried to have me kidnapped when I was a little girl after he left our family. I was estranged from him for most of my life by my own choice after that.”

I started following him initially as a way to take my own power back using the long lens of my camera. As the project progressed, I started to see my acts of surveillance as a private performance just for me. I came away learning more about my own identity apart from him as well as the ways in which the abuse I suffered at his hands had, in part, informed who I had become as an adult. I documented the process and shared it as a book and exhibition as a way to interrogate the spaces between fact and fiction in our own histories as well as in storytelling.

You obtained a Private Investigator licence, what are the requirements to gain this license and now that you have it what is the legal extent of what you are able to do when surveilling an individual/s?  

In the United States, the license needed to legally practice as a Private Investigator is state by state but the requirements are all pretty similar. In New Mexico, where I live and work, 6,000 hours of investigative work are required as well as passing a jurisprudence exam, paying a licensing fee, and then participating in annual training. Because Private investigators are civilians, not police or military, the same laws apply to execute our jobs. So, for instance, when I conduct surveillance I must obey all laws regarding privacy and distance. I have had to learn a great deal about public and private space as it pertains to paparazzi law in order to navigate what is legal in terms of gathering information.

“I mostly have had to learn by research as I go and through developing relationships with other P.I.s, lawyers and sometimes even law enforcement.”

Has Covid affected how you approach your art practice?

While I have had a pretty substantial increase in private investigation clients during the pandemic, I have found that doing fieldwork to complete my jobs has been very tricky. I have given talks and performances nationally about my work in years past but have not been able to do that during the pandemic. I have had to put a project on hold that I was starting work on in 2019 because it depended on collaborators. I am happy that I have just been able to resume work on it this month. I hope to get back to booking lectures, talks, and performances again soon.

Can you tell me more about your ongoing work ‘D.I.Y. P.I.’?

Do It Yourself Private Investigation (D.I.Y. P.I.) is an ongoing project that began with getting my private investigator’s license in 2017 after putting in the five years of investigative work. I documented that process, shared the work on my Patreon, at an exhibition in Albuquerque, and toured a series of performances and talks. I think that my work comes across the clearest when I am able to present it publicly sharing the stories and adventures of making it. I hope to get back to doing more immersive performances and presentations about the work I do.

Where do you draw inspiration from?

Oh, wow – lots of places! Living my own life and observing how other people move through their lives has provided the most inspiration for me. Facing the systems of oppression in my day to day living and helping others to empower themselves in navigating these systems is what fuels me to keep getting up every day and trying.

“Making art in those spaces of feeling disempowered has literally kept me alive.”

Music and film also inspire me greatly.

‘Dear Erin Hart’ is perhaps your most well-known work, what do you think in particular draws people to this artwork?

Dear Erin Hart, lends itself well to a wider audience for a few reasons. One is that it is about identity theft, which is prevalent in our culture at the moment so it touches on a timely issue. Identity theft strikes at something very vulnerable for most of us. Our identities are all we have that is ours and only ours so when someone uses our name or image to commit acts that we do not ourselves do, it feels like a real violation and loss of control on a deep level. I think that those who read what I did for this project (following the woman who stole my identity) as an act of revenge, they seem to appreciate how I took back my power from this person who wronged me. For others, they see the compassion I found for this woman who is living her life the best way she knows how. Over the time I executed the project and really for the years that have followed, I have come to see it as an act of restorative justice on my part and long to actually know this woman.

What advice do you have for young creatives looking to explore concepts of identity and surveillance?

I encourage young people to explore how surveillance impacts them personally and professionally as well as how it informs their own identity. I will say that it has been very valuable to me to learn as much as they can about the laws around surveillance.

I have found self-reflection about my own identity to be a critical part of how I research and explore it on a larger scale outside of myself. In terms of those wanting to explore identity publicly as their work, I would advise anyone moving into this realm to deeply consider how they present themselves publicly and privately.

“Sharing your story is an act of generosity and trust and sadly, not everyone who has access to our images and stories can be trusted to be respectful.”

Are you working on any other projects at the moment and what plans do you have for the future?

I am currently working on a collaboration called Practiced Disguises where artist and photographer Heather Sparrow is working with me to document the wide array of disguises I have employed in my work as a Private investigator. We are still in the early stages of bringing each disguise to life and I cannot wait to share this in the coming year or so.  I am also working with a well known Canadian actor to create a movie or TV series about that part of my life. We are working with a screenwriter on the script now, which is getting pretty exciting. I think it will be really interesting to see how the project unfolds!

Credits

Images · JESSAMYN LOVELL
www.jessamynlovell.com/

Intak Song

“I enjoy the conflict or inconsistencies in the space where I’m shooting”

Seoul-based photographer Intak Song has created a distinctive visual style with his work that extends from intimate portraiture to larger styled shoots, with a strong focus on fashion. Song’s work has been featured by the likes of Vogue Korea, SICKY Mag, Dew Magazine, PAP Magazine, HYPEBAE and more.

Working with both digital and analogue cameras, Song has established a strong and dynamic skill set within the industry and utilises the strengths of both methods to produce beautifully executed images. In a creative world that is becoming increasingly digitised, Song operates from a unique perspective, as he aims to move away from this ‘quick consumption’, towards a more authentic space.

Song’s work is heavily considered, with a mellow and otherworldly aesthetic. Before Song started his photography career, he communicated his emotions and creative vision through music. Discovering more about himself as a person and an artist through this process, Song is able to bring a unique sense of care and confidence to his images, all carefully informed by elegant styling and lighting.

NR Magazine speaks with the artist to learn more about his creative process and the ins and outs of his photography.

Could you talk a bit about your background and how you first started getting into photography?

I have been interested in art and culture since I was a child. I had an ordinary childhood and during my adolescence I was really interested in music, photography, film etc. I majored in music and dreamed of becoming a composer in college, so I went on a trip to Australia with a close friend. Photography was one of my hobbies but seeing myself concentrate more on photography rather than music while I was travelling in Australia, I thought about becoming a photographer.

In Australia, there was a high place overlooking a wide field and I wanted to take a picture naturally. It was one of the most beautiful moment in my life and I stayed for a while to watch the sunset. Since then, I have been working with confidence and preparing my portfolio. I think that beautiful moment gave me the confidence to become a photographer.

Do you channel cultural influences into your work?

I try to look observe things around me all the time. I can’t avoid being influenced by culture, and of course the atmosphere in Seoul, where I live, has affected me as well.

I’m influenced by the people around me, the conversations I have with friends, art, music, etc. These days, I am more interested in the social phenomena around me.

Has fashion always been an interest of yours? What intrigues you about it?

At first, I was not interested in fashion photography, but when I was working on my portfolio, I was interested in how the power of a photograph changes depending on the styling. Fashion is very important to my work – it has the power to change the story that I want to tell. When I work, I talk a lot with the stylist or director, and I develop more of my ideas during the shooting process.

Your work has a really unique, almost dream-like aesthetic. How did you come to develop this style?

I had a big imagination as a kid, but I’ve always preferred visualising my own world rather than being trapped in my imaginary world. I then wondered if I could visually turn this into a reality. Imagination takes up a lot of space in my work. These days, I’m interested in 3D work, so I’m thinking about what parts of my work I can mix with that.

What kind of working environments help motivate you?

Lately I’ve been trying to change my working process. Since I only work with fashion photography, I can begin to feel bored sometimes, so I like to look around seek out different kinds of photography projects. Sometimes I try to get the equipment together to shoot on public transportation instead of riding in my car. I think this small action helps me get closer to the social changes that people are interested in.

Have you learned anything about yourself through your work?

I think I’ve generally learned to accept a lot of things about myself through my work. I have a better sense of who I am now and how my mood can change with my work. I think I always check it through my work – it’s like looking in a mirror.

What aesthetics and styles influence your work?

I’m interested in things that are more objective rather than emotional. I like the way I see elements like stones, steel, outer space, and buildings.

Talk me through a day in the life of Intak Song.

Excluding the days when I have a meeting for work or shooting an advertisement, I spend a lot of time in my private studio. I also take my dog for walks.

You mentioned that you use both digital and analogue cameras. What attracts you to working with both of these?

Digital cameras and film cameras have different expressive powers, so I use them according to the work that they are best suited for. I think I decided to use both because I wanted to work with what they can both offer. Digital cameras are good for realistic depictions. There are times when I want to capture the essence of a painting, and film cameras are better at doing that.

Both have different expressive potential, so it is fun to pick and choose between them.

“I think there is nothing more meaningful than the tools you use to express yourself.”

What things in your daily life help you to stay creative?

I think conversation is important. There are a lot of good ideas that suddenly come to mind during a casual conversation. I don’t think it is necessary to have a creative conversation, I just enjoy talking about a variety of topics. Talking about trivial things and writing them down on a smartphone or on a notebook is good habit for everyday life. It can help keep the mind’s creativity flowing.

I think the best way to stay creative is to get into the habit of hanging out and talking with good people around you.

The theme of this issue is Identity, so I’d love to discuss your thoughts on your work and fashion photography as an expression of this.

I think it’s very important for photographers to express their identity. Tone, composition, pose direction, etc – these actions are all necessary when shooting, and they all stem from an identity. With fashion photography, you need an overall theme, and when you’re with a subject, the photographer will have their own principles that are important to them.

In terms of my own identity in my work, I think I have developed a tendency to include things I’m feeling or thinking about into my photography. Rather than using a more intuitive and direct way of speaking, I enjoy the conflict or inconsistencies in the space where I’m shooting.

“With my work, I am to create a strange expressiveness that is realistic and unexpected, and with fashion photography, I want to create my own version of a realistic fairy tale.”

You’ve mentioned the topic of ‘quick consumption’ in the past. What are your thoughts on fast fashion and consumption in the creative industry?

I think the pros and cons of ‘fast consumption’ clearly exist. The phenomenon of rapid consumption is increasing as modern technology develops rapidly, and artists are creating different content through applying these developing technologies. We’re in an era where people are scrolling through a lot of data unconsciously, which has the benefits of allowing us to enjoy a variety of quickly produced content.

With fast fashion, it acts quickly to consume and adapt to content created in this way, and that’s something I am personally worried about. I am sure that the faster the speed of production, the higher the probability that a lot of low-quality content will be created. Then the speed of consumption will increase, and this content of low quality will also increase, and there’s no authenticity.

I can’t quite find an exact answer to this question, but I think we need to be aware of these aspects of the fashion world.

What eras of fashion have shaped you as a creative the most?

90s Seoul office worker fashion.

What have been your favourite projects to work on?

I worked on a project called ‘L’Etranger’, which involved working with Korean immigrants. I planned to shoot a total of 10 episodes, but due to the current global circumstances, I couldn’t finish the project. That’s definitely something I want to continue working on.

Where do you see your creative vision taking you? Are there any upcoming projects we should look out for?

I plan to work on some elements for an exhibition in the future.

Credits

Images · INTAK SONG
www.instagram.com/songintak/

Ileana Ninn

“Even when you invent aspects of yourself, it’s always a part of you”

Through manipulating her photographs, Ileana Ninn plays around with concepts of perception, personality and how we see ourselves. Often erasing facial features, attaching multiple limbs, and cloning her subjects, Ileana encourages her imagery to be interpreted by the viewer at their own pace and without a concrete explanation.

Visually interrogating what it means to present yourself and your personality to the world, Ileana’s work is a palate cleanser for the timeless questioning of identity in portraiture. Ileana’s interest in the different facets all of us have to our personality and social façades is the driving force behind her work.

Ileana aims to explore our ability to change whilst remaining true to ourselves, and her work uncovers the conflicts and dilemmas that are apparent in what she describes as ‘a unique personality.’

NR Magazine speaks with the photographer to discuss her creative influences, how she sees others and how she has learned to observe herself through her work.

What inspired you to start manipulating and distorting your photographs?

I wanted to represent the phenomena of photography having different elements of personality and personal reflections of the world.

Your work plays around with the concept of perception and how we see ourselves. How would you describe the way you see yourself?

Although I represent myself in my photography, it’s not necessarily just my personality. I also play with my surroundings. The aim isn’t always to show myself, but more to highlight the complexity of an individual.

Do you find that distorting or manipulating your work uncovers anything about the original subjects? And do you find new creative perspectives from this process?

Yes, I try to reveal something. Whenever I choose a subject or take a photo, I do so knowing almost always in advance how I will distort it. I don’t always find my photos interesting without the process of manipulation that I put them through.

Talk to me a bit about your creative background and influences. Do you take much inspiration from aspects of surrealism and contemporary youth culture?

I grew up listening to a lot of music, mainly English pop and rock, and I was always fascinated by vinyl records and their covers – my father had a huge collection. In terms of surrealism, I think everything I saw from the world of Tim Burton influenced me.

You’ve mentioned that you like to highlight people’s ability to change while remaining themselves. Could you talk a bit more about that?

I think everyone shows different sides of themselves in different situations, to protect themselves or to show off, for example. When a person wants to show off to gain something, even if that person forces some of their personality traits, in the end it is still a part of them that they are showing.

“Even when you invent aspects of yourself, it’s always a part of you. I distort my photos the way people distort themselves.”

What do you want viewers to take from your work?

I am a young photographer, so I don’t really have enough experience or maturity to want anyone to get anything out of my work. If people are simply looking at them, then I’m happy. If people want to share with me the effect my work has on them, then even better. If I’ve been able to bring something to them in any capacity, that makes me happy. I want to share.

How does social media affect your practice? Is it your main way of communicating your art to others?

Yes, this is my main way of communicating my art. It’s easy, fast and I can reach people across the world. I prefer putting up posters, where people can stumble upon them randomly while walking down the street.

What photographers do you take inspiration from?

Hannah Maynard – she was born in England and moved to Canada in 1851. You should study her life and her work; I think she was an amazing woman.

Your work also demonstrates the different aesthetics and capabilities of the body and how figures interact with each other and the places they occupy. Is this a conscious choice? Does your work have a specific narrative?

Yes, I have a very clear idea of my subject, and unless there is a technical problem, the photos themselves are produced fairly quickly. I try to create an interaction and a link between my subjects. In staging myself multiple times in the same image, I want to give the impression of being different characters that are interacting with each other.

What do you enjoy most about photography as a means of self-expression?

I would say the manipulation of the image and being able to simultaneously express myself while being hidden.

Have you discovered anything about yourself or your surroundings through your work?

I’ve been able to choose how to look at myself and to not be subjected to the gaze of another.

With the theme of this issue being Identity, I’d love to hear your thoughts about the concepts of identity and ambiguity in your work.

For me and my work, identity is several things. It is a plural; it cannot be one and constant. It is influenced by all the different factors around us and can change and evolve over a lifetime.

“We may want to reinvent ourselves to satisfy an understanding of who we are.”

What aspects of your work reflect your own identity?

I stage myself multiple times throughout my work, as I feel like there are so many different aspects of my personality and how I want to represent myself publicly. I’m still young and I’m not sure of who I am and who I want to be just yet.

Credits

Honey and Prue

Blown Tissue

Henriette Sabroe Ebbesen

“standing with one leg rooted in the world of science and the other leg rooted in the world of art”

Distorting bodies and exploring the intersection between painting and photography, Danish photographer Henriette Sabroe Ebbesen explores aspects of the surreal and works with reflections and collage to craft unique landscapes and new realities. Investigating the painterly potential of photography as a medium, Ebbesen distorts our sense of reality by manipulating the objects and space within the picture frame, and prompts us to question the truth in what we see. Ebbesen’s work also addresses concepts of identity and the subconscious, with a particular focus on the relationship of the self with the surrounding world.

Alongside her artistic pursuits, Ebbesen studies medicine, which she finds to be a great influence on her creative process – particularly the neurological processes that take place when creating a piece of art. Intrigued by the laws of and structures of the physical world, Ebbesen draws on this knowledge to build her collection of odd imagery that she creates intuitively, informed by the subconscious mind that is often in opposition to the logical thinking favoured by the field of science.

The vibrancy and fragility of the natural world imbue a sense of tranquility within Ebbesen’s work, and her detailed exploration of memories and conflicts within her personal life establishes a vulnerability and charm to her practice.

NR Magazine speaks with Ebbesen to learn more about her creative process and to discuss the relationship between art, science and identity.

Your work plays a lot with reflections and collage to create a unique sense of the surreal – how did you come to develop this style of working? 

I’ve always had an experimental approach to my work. I started to experiment with distortion because I wanted to create work that bordered painting and photography. Distortions could give me this interesting effect. I use different kinds of mirrors and reflective material to create the distortions and illusions in my work. I only use Photoshop for colour and light editing. It is both an experiment for me to see how I can create an illusion with the mirrors, but I also want the viewer to question what they see when they see the finished work. Practically speaking, I try to bend reality and capture it with my camera for the viewer to experience a different reality than the one they are used to.

Collage comes into my work in my series ‘Growing Up’ where I mix my own photography with childhood photos from our family album. This work is a bit like making a puzzle or a digital painting.

Your work also deals with concepts of identity and the subconscious. Were these concepts always something you sought out to explore?  With the theme of this issue being Identity, I’d love to discuss how you feel you explore yourself and your identity through your work.

When creating my work, I feel like I discover bits of myself piece by piece. This comes from the creating process and from analysing my own work where I feel like thoughts and memories from my subconscious mind suddenly take place in my conscious mind. By becoming aware of my subconscious thoughts, I feel like I learn things about my own identity that I think I could only learn though the art-making process.

Does living in Copenhagen influence your work at all?

Living in Denmark with its dark winters really makes you appreciate the sunlight when it appears. During the long winters I long for warm and bright summer nights and dream myself back to this time of the year.

When the first sun appears in the spring, I love to point my head towards the sun and with closed eyes sense the warmth and light reaching my forehead and eyeballs behind my eyelids. To me, this is a true feeling of happiness, and this feeling is something I try to capture with my camera when shooting in direct sunlight in most of my works.

When winter arrives, I can then look at the work I shot during the summer and dream myself back to this feeling.

Your series ‘Feminine Development’ addresses the alienation of the female body and female sexual identity. You mentioned that creating the series also confronted your own body insecurities. Have you felt this kind of confrontation or self-realisation with your other work?

Yes definitely. My work always has something to do with me and what I have on my mind. I try to create work that challenges me on a personal level. This could be in the form of trying out a new technique or digging into a theme that disturbs my mind. It really depends on the type of series, but I would get bored if my work wasn’t challenging for me to create. As soon as I feel safe in an area of my creative work, I try to move on to the next challenge and create something new.

Is there a specific series that you have the strongest connection with?

I would say my series ‘Growing Up’ as it addresses my personal life on another level compared to some of my other work. I have strong memories from my childhood and think of this period of my life as happy and care-free. I enjoyed re-discovering moments from this time of my life when I was searching for images in our family albums.

Your work also has a real sense of serenity and has a dream-like aesthetic. Do you take inspiration from nature? 

I believe inspiration comes from everything I experience and see both on a personal level and what I read and study. I probably get inspiration from all visual impressions I get throughout the day. I also get a lot of inspiration from meeting different people and hearing about their different life experiences and worldviews – it challenges me to think differently. When I have emotional experiences in my personal life is probably when I get the most inspired, but I can never pinpoint exactly where my art comes from. It’s probably a mix of all the impressions and experiences layered in my mind.

The nude body and nature are elements that we know from the real world. I think it’s interesting to place these objects and sceneries in a surreal context as it becomes a clash between something familiar and something odd.

I was always fascinated with science, and I love to play with ideas of manipulating the physical rules of this world. According to the general theory of relativity, you can bend space and time. This is what I try to illustrate in my works by literally bending light rays with mirrors. Mathematical structures, physical laws, botanical plants and so many other things from the natural world are so fascinating that they even seem surreal.

With your series ‘Growing Up’ you mention that you rediscovered pieces of your childhood personality. Could you talk a bit more about that?

I think it’s really interesting to look back at childhood images of myself and other people I know well and try to understand the look in their eyes, their smile, gestures, etc. When looking at these kinds of images I feel like it’s the same soul looking out through the eyes of the child as the adult I know them as today.

“Looking at myself as a child has also helped me understand my own identity better.”

How one’s personality has developed through life really stands out when you look at someone’s childhood image.

You’ve worked with some iconic publications like Vogue Italia and Vanity Fair, as well as other designers and artists. Do you prefer working alone or collaboratively?

I love to collaborate with other creatives because I learn so much every time. Coming from a science background, it’s really satisfying working with people who understand the creative language and process. I would say a mix of both collaborative work and working alone is the best option for me, as I enjoy the collaborative process, but I also want to stay true to my own language and mind, which I work the best with when I’m on my own.

Have you learnt anything new about yourself or your creative process over the past year? I imagine being an artist during a pandemic must have been a big struggle.

Yes and no. I think my daily routine hasn’t changed much, as I could continue my normal routine studying medicine alongside my art-making process, which usually only requires me and a model. On the other hand, I had to postpone my first solo show a few months before it could be held in May in Oslo at Vasli Souza Gallery. Also because of Coronavirus I couldn’t go myself, but generally I think I’ve been in a lucky position during the pandemic.

Your work involves a lot of distortion and manipulation of forms. How do you find the potential for these qualities when looking at your subjects and the world around you?

My work revolved around the boundaries between reality, fantasy and the surreal. Here, photography can do something that a painting, for example, cannot. We have a more realistic relationship to photography as a medium because it’s used to document reality. My technique and photographic style studies where the boundaries are between painting and photography. I started to experiment with distortion because they could give me this interesting painterly effect.

I want viewers to think about what is real in the things we see. In concrete terms, the mirrors I use also function as a symbolic boundary between two worlds, with reality on one side and imagination on the other. Since I study medicine alongside being an artist, I also feel that I’m on the border of two worlds, standing with one leg rooted in the world of science and the other leg rooted in the world of art.

I’d love to know more about how studying medicine has influenced you and your art.

I was always interested in both natural science and art and was never able to choose between them, so instead I went for both. In the future I would like to research the creative process of artists and their art-making. Aside from studying, I always need to express myself artistically. I think I became an artist because I couldn’t hold back from the creative process.

I’m really fascinated by what happens in the brain when you create art, because I don’t really understand what goes on in my own head when I create my own work. It’s a process that to me, seems very subconscious and connected to feelings rather than the logical and conscious mind.

For my bachelor’s thesis, I wrote about how we all see colours differently due to genetic variations in our cones (which are the receptors that senses the light spectrum’s wavelengths in our eyes). I had this idea because I always subconsciously end up choosing colours from the same colour spectrum for my artworks, whereas other artists seem to use a different colour spectrum that is unique to their own work. I thought we might see colours a bit different for this reason, and it turns out we actually do. For my master’s thesis I will be writing about genetic traits and links between the mind of creatives and the mind of people diagnosed with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. It might be that cliché of genius and ‘madness’ being connected, but when I was interning at a psychiatric department, it was really interesting talking to people diagnosed with schizophrenia, as;

“I felt that the difference between an artist making up their own universe for their work is not that far removed from someone living with schizophrenia experiencing their own surreal world.”

This is not to romanticise mental disorders or describe artistic minds as something pathological, but rather a better understanding of the links and differences between the two. It could possibly help people with mental disorders get better diagnoses and treatment.

The female form and nudity seem to be important concepts that you explore with your work. What are your thoughts on the relationship between the body and identity?

My series ‘Feminine Development’ addresses the alienation of the female body and female sexual identity, which has often been distorted by society. With cosmetic surgery and genetic manipulation, almost anything becomes possible in the strive of fulfilling society’s expectations of beauty and perfection. Using mirrors to manipulate the body in this series serves to illustrate how we’re slowly moving away from reality and merging with a surreal, parallel world where it is questionable what a natural body looks like. Creating the series, I confronted my own body insecurities by creating images that would celebrate the female body for its capability of giving birth and creating a child, starting from the division of just two cells.

I think the body and identity are two things that are inseparable. When you look at yourself in the mirror you identify as yourself. I think the way we talk to ourselves and the way we view our own bodies has a huge impact on our self-image and identity.

Do you aim to draw specific qualities out of the subjects of your photographs, or is it more a case of you wanting to capture something that is already present?

It really depends on the person who is being photographed and what they give me to work with. Some people have a natural talent for performing and expressing themselves artistically as models. For others, I give them more directions, but most of my models perform like actors in my surreal universe of images. Emotions are real and pure, but good actors are also able to show this.

I’m beyond thankful to all the people who have ever posed for me and trusted my vision and weird ideas. Most of them are my friends or family, so it’s a personal experience working with and portraying these people.

Do you have any rituals or habits that help to motivate you creatively?

Most ideas come to me naturally and without even knowing where they’ve come from, but a great catalyst for bringing my ideas to life is probably going for a run. Running helps open my mind so my thoughts can wander freely to form a new creative input. When creating new work, I usually have a vague idea in mind of what I want to capture. I bring the model, the props and go to a location usually outside in a park or field. The weather is very important as well, as I almost always shoot outdoors with strong sunlight and a blue sky – that’s when the colours appear most vibrantly and beautifully to me. What happens in front of the camera is determined by my mood, the mood of the model, and sometimes just by accident. When creating the images, I lose all sense of time and basic needs. It’s magical to be in this state of mind, but I’m physically and mentally very drained when I’m done with a shoot, so I need to rest before coming back to do another one. Reading, studying and being with people I love also recharges my batteries.

Where do you see your practice heading?

Recently I’ve been interested in the moving image, and I’ve been experimenting with making art and fashion movies. I would like to continue in this direction and create works that are on the border of moving image and still photography as a kind of living photograph, as well as making short films. Moving image is a whole new world to me and I’d love to explore these possibilities further.

My new series of male nudes called ‘Modern Masculinity’ is also taking shape at the moment. I think it’s interesting to work with the male body and see what happens when I mix masculine bodies into my feminine universe. My goal is to portray the men as soft and gentle and to show another side of the masculine.

Credits

Images · HENRIETTE SABBROE EBBESEN
www.henrietteebbesen.com

Hassan Kurbanbaev

“Photography is my interlocutor.”

Shining a light on the hidden gems of Uzbekistan, photographer Hassan Kurbanbaev documents and explores the identities of the people and landscapes of his home country. Capturing the spirit of the country’s capital city Tashkent, Kurbanbaev’s also uses photography as a tool to better understand his surroundings. Immersing himself in the country’s emerging generation, his sentimental perspective shines a warm light on the often-overlooked aspects of Uzbek life.

A Soviet republic for the majority of the 20th century, Uzbekistan became independent in 1991, and the country’s history of immigration has made Tashkent a city of great diversity. Kurbanbaev’s body of work reflects this richness of culture, as he documents Tashkent’s youth, inner city spots, rural landscapes and personal portraits. Snapshots of urban life bathed in sunlight, trees caressed by the breeze and locals lost in thought – the photographer’s love for his city stands out in his work.

Kurbanbaev’s work has planted the seeds for a new era of liberated image-making in Uzbekistan. Championing authenticity and showcasing his heritage, he speaks into existence a new kind of artistic expression for the Uzbek photography scene and inspires other emerging artists to do the same.

NR Magazine speaks with the photographer to learn more about the history of artistic censorship in Uzbekistan, the blossoming photography scene, and Kurbanbaev’s exploration of his country’s identity.

When did you first start getting into photography? 

I took up photography while studying at the Tashkent State University of the Arts, where I entered the Faculty of Cinematography in the early 2000s. Now it’s slightly difficult to call this university a full-fledged education, but at the time we had a photography course that helped me understand that it was something I’d be passionate about in the future. After graduation, I didn’t immediately become a photographer in the full sense of the word. I worked for several years in radio and did various jobs, but eventually returned to photography as a profession. I guess I understood photography as something that made my existence useful and conscious.

You’ve mentioned being ‘full of questions’ about your ‘identity as a citizen of Uzbekistan’ – as this issue of the magazine is about identity, I’d love to delve deeper into your thoughts about that. 

I think that I, like a lot of other people from the post-Soviet era, experience this feeling of uncertainty about questions concerning the concept of self-representation, a homeland and community really means for us.

Uzbekistan with its modern borders was formed by Joseph Stalin, who personally laid out every centimetre of the border. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Uzbekistan retained a totalitarian-type, autocratic, harsh regime that was present for many years, which of course stopped any real understanding of yourself and the place you live. Instead of turning to a critical study of history and our national identity, we turned to propaganda and a constant zombification of Uzbekistan being ‘a country with a great past and a great future’. You just don’t believe what you’re being told – something inside you resists. My childhood in the 90s was when Uzbekistan became independent, and at the start there was still a sense of freedom – the borders opened, we had MTV, and I was definitely shaped by that feeling of freedom.

Uzbekistan slowly started to return to its old ways, which prevented us from accepting ourselves as part of the country. I come from the south-west of Tashkent, where they mostly speak Russian, and I was also raised in a Russian-speaking environment, so this was also part of what confuses me about my identity. These internal conflicts have haunted me all my life. Photography helps me to constantly examine my country from different angles and to seek the truth, even if it’s not something I reflect in my work. Photography is my interlocutor.

Your work, and ‘Untitled (Portrait of Uzbekistan)’, stands out as an exploration of your country and the things that unite it. Has documenting the people and places of your home uncovered anything in particular for you? Have any specific moments resonated with you?

Yes, I think my love and respect has grown for the people living in the provinces and small towns. They are very hardworking and good people, able to withstand many hardships that life has presented them with. I don’t know if I reflect the determination of their spirit in my photography, but when you are with them, you definitely feel it.

Your work is the first I’ve encountered of its style that details life in Uzbekistan. It is clear that life in the rural parts of the country is often overlooked – is that something you wanted to change through creating the series? 

From a visual archive stance, modern Uzbekistan and personal photography in particular lacks a solid foundation. By and large, Uzbekistan is well represented in the colonial view of the past few centuries, and as an almost ideal picture from the Soviet Union, but in contemporary photography, there are only a few series from local photographers that have an impact on the Uzbek photography scene. Personally, I couldn’t name more than three people that have gained recognition documenting Uzbekistan or that have had their work published in books. The country itself is interesting to me and as I travel, I learn more and try to share this experience. To me, it seems that now is the time for local photographers to document their city, or anywhere they feel connected to. The most important thing is expressing your opinion and your viewpoint as much as possible – this is the only way to form a new community of photographers, and a community in Uzbekistan, which I think should then be transformed into an institution.

As a photographer, how do you find life in Uzbekistan? 

Only from about 2016 did I feel motivated to work here as a photographer. The country has changed for the better over the years, but some reformation processes have slowed down.

Most of the photographs in the series are portraits, but there are also poignant still lifes, as well as sprawling landscapes – does the natural environment and the Uzbek landscape have a big impact on you? 

I am not a naturalist or a landscape photographer, but I do love nature, and sometimes I find it necessary to spend some time in solitude with it. Landscapes and still lifes are just a continuation of the study of my country through the eternal images of nature.

Do you ever find it hard to explore your creative freedom given such a long history of censorship where you’re from? 

Yes, it happens constantly. Some artists I know still have a fear of putting themselves at risk with their work. At the same time however, I think that now is the time to act on and explore topics that wouldn’t have been possible previously. I don’t limit myself in what I do, but I know that at any moment everything could change. You never know what tomorrow might bring.

The 139 Documentary Centre in Tashkent has become an important place for the photography scene in Uzbekistan. Could you talk a bit about its impact on you? 

It would have been impossible to imagine this centre opening a few years ago. It is a small but important organization that is finally really engaged in visual research of Uzbekistan, through documentary photography and exhibitions of young artists. The centre has helped support artistic freedom, which has been much needed for the arts community in the country for many years. I’m very glad that I held my first solo exhibition here.

What has it been like over the years having more freedom to document what you want? Has there been a noticeable difference in your creative process now to back when you first got into photography? 

It has not been an easy journey, and I feel like I’m just at the beginning of it. Photography is a plastic medium and requires constant commitment. I am changing along with the country. In other words, this is my evolution – from an amateur fashion and stock photographer, to rethinking my work, understanding the key moments, and constantly learning in my profession.

You’ve mentioned how important it is for Uzbek artists to document and speak about Uzbekistan. How else does identity and your hometown Tashkent inspire and influence your work? 

I’m an introvert, and sometimes to get some time away from everything, I walk for hours in the city, in the courtyards or along the road. It has always helped me in the worst moments of my life, especially as a teenager. Tashkent has always been my friend. In 2016 I returned to photography after a break, I began to photograph my own city and its youth. This helped me return to my profession. If all Uzbek artists address their community, it would be so cool – we really need a variety of stories! But then again, I know that a main problem is money. Young artists don’t have money to fund their own projects, and I often experience these problems myself.

How has the pandemic affected Tashkent? 

2020 was a frightening reality for the whole world. Like the rest of the country, Tashkent, was no exception. The pandemic obviously affected the economy and peoples’ way of living. For example, we had economic migration to Russia and Kazakhstan, and many people were unable to work to earn money for their families. I don’t know how they survived.

What do you anticipate for the future of Uzbek photography? 

I think in five or six years you’ll recognise some great projects from new artists in Uzbekistan. We live in a time where we can use a platform like Instagram to help realise and share our thoughts and ideas. I think that if censorship doesn’t return to my country, then our future is bright. But in general, being an artist in Uzbekistan is hard.

What inspires you about other Uzbek artists? 

This is a great question! If we’re talking about photography, there are some young photographers that I follow on Instagram who I met at the 139 Documentary Centre. They work in the same genre of subjective documentary, and there is a lot of personal touch to their stories, which inspires me the most.

Your series ‘Logomania’ explores how signs and symbols of Western culture have become deeply embedded in the daily lives of people in Uzbekistan, and you’ve commented on how this has had a devastating effect on your country. Could you talk a bit more about this and the ‘crisis of self-identification’ that you’ve mentioned?  

After almost a century-old totalitarian regime, Uzbekistan gained freedom, but at the same time there was an increase in the uncontrolled import of poor-quality goods. This is how the market was formed, influencing our perception of beauty and prosperity, and it strongly influenced the emerging culture of Uzbekistan.

Globalization and the lack of vital improvements in education made us dependent on everything Western, and as a result, we formed a mediocre culture of self-identification that was reflected in everyday life. For the series I looked at this problem through the lens of everyday fashion, which is fascinating to me. In these gold Gucci patches on the velour local dressing gowns, I saw everything I mentioned above.

What do you value most about Uzbek culture? Do you have any favourite people or places to photograph? 

I appreciate their modesty, humility and their great love for life. I appreciate the strength of our people who bring goodness and light into this unjust reality. I am still exploring my country, so whatever I photograph now becomes my favourite place.

Do you have a particular process when shooting or is it just something that comes naturally to you? 

It depends on the projects, for example, Logomania is a completely staged project, but most of the time my process is candid – my friend and I collect backpacks with cameras and travel without a specific aim in mind.

Are you working on any projects at the moment? 

Yes, I am working on a new project that investigates the changes in Uzbekistan 2016 to the present day.

Discover Hassan Kurbanbaev’s work here hassankurbanbaev.com

Hajime Sorayama

“The reason why other works are regarded as vulgar is because they lack love and ability”

“Ugh, I’m sick of dating apps.” A friend slams their phone down in disgust. “It would be so much easier if we could just get a robot boyfriend.” “A sexy robot,” I reply, laughing, but privately thinking that it sounds much easier than navigating Hinge. For Hajime Sorayama the concept of the ‘sexy robot’ is not merely a passing joke between friends but his life’s work. Most well known for his hyperrealistic illustrations of eroticised feminine robots, Sorayama describes his highly detailed style as ‘superrealism’ stating that he “deals with the technical issue of how close one can get to one’s object.”

As a kid, Soryama states that he was always picking up scraps of metal from the lathe factory and had a love of shiny things. “They say only crows and humans are awed by shiny things. That’s why I like to create reflectivity and transparency in my artwork. It’s easy to produce those effects in a video, but not on a flat surface.” He is quite open about his metal fetish stating that  “Even Nobel winners are often people who nobody quite ‘gets.’ You should be proud to be an outsider.”

Influenced by the American pin-up girl Sorayama’s work explore’s taboo, fetishism, bondage and genetic manipulation by presenting images of unattainable idealised women and he has risen from cult fame to internationally recognised artist as a pioneer of the sci-fi erotica genre. His work extends far beyond the Japanese art scene and his influence can be seen in media ranging from Hollywood films to advertising, robotic dogs or dinosaurs and beyond. NR Magazine joins the artist in conversation.

What does identity mean to you as an artist?

I’ve been working as an artist for about 30 years, and I’ve always done what I like. I think that the style that you are comfortable with is what leads to your individuality, wouldn’t you agree?

Do you think viewers connect with your work because there is a collective desire for escapism in this post-capitalist society and people find the alien and uncanny comfortingly different?

I communicate with fans through my various works. That’s why I don’t give them titles. If you share the same values as I do, you can understand what I am trying to say by looking at the work and feeling it.

If people who feel stuck in the same societal norms don’t try to escape, I don’t think anything will change, whether it is capitalism or post-capitalism. If you don’t take action yourself, changing your environment won’t change your life either. This kind of goes back to the answer I gave to question one…

You have stated that you are not interested in the future yet your work imagines a future where women are no longer under the patriarchy and are viewed as goddesses. Have you also considered a future where robot x human and AI virtual relationships are a possibility?

I don’t think the future will come when humans and robots or AI will be on equal footing. It is self-evident that humans have the upper hand. The disparity between men and women is a different story. I don’t think it makes sense to make minor discriminations among the same species. We are all primates.

“I think there can be romantic feelings between humans and robots or AI. We also have lust and attachment to inorganic objects.”

Are there any sci-fi films or books that you are particularly drawn to or enjoy?

You may or may not have heard of a book by Junichiro Tanizaki. He authored a book about how close one’s fetish is to insanity. I also like “Blade Runner”. It’s about the love between a human and a machine. Beyond this, I also like the story of Pugmalion in Greek mythology, who became so fetishistic that he even had a child with a stone statue he created.

Do you think aesthetic cybernetic body modifications will become common in the near future? If you were to design body modifications what would you create?

First of all,

“I don’t think becoming a cyborg will become a common practice. This is because there is no such thing as something that everyone finds equally beautiful.”

People instinctively want to be popular in a wide and shallow range, so beauty that is specialized in one direction will never become common. I think there are people who might become cyborgs purely as a personal hobby. It’s a person’s personality that dictates whether they like it or not.

If I were to design a body modification, I don’t know what the person likes or if they enjoy it, thus I think they should do what they want.

One issue with creating ‘realistic’ robots is the ‘uncanny valley’ phenomenon. Is this something you considered when creating your sexy robots? Do you think robot designs in the future will be similar to your robots because of this?

The “uncanny valley” phenomenon occurs because of the lack of love in the motif. I think this is a problem that can be easily overcome with love and ability. Dolls and robots are just like dead bodies. I’m trying to breathe life into them. I think the robot of the future will not look like my robot. Each of us has our own fetishes.

You worked with SONY on the concept design for their robotic pet AIBO. Do you see yourself working in other robot designs in the future as technology advances?

I would like to try it. But I think I will be turned down. Because what I want to complete is not profitable. For example, just by looking at the first motif prepared by a company, I know the result. It’s not good, and I don’t want to do it.

There is something of an inside joke in the art community, particularly amongst illustrators, that if you learn how to draw fetish art you’ll never have to worry about money. You yourself have stated that you have a metal fetish and that is seen in your work. Why do you think your work is considered fine art while other similar art is considered lowbrow?

The reason why other works are regarded as vulgar is because they lack love and ability.

What advice do you have for young creatives looking to explore technology and eroticism in their work?

Do you like women? If it’s something you like, you can do it even if you die! Can you keep doing it for 30 or 40 years? I think it’s good if you like it that much.

Are you working on any projects at the moment and what plans do you have for the future?

It’s a secret. I’m working on something that will surprise everyone. I just hope the world will be okay with it.

Credits

Images · HAJIME SORAYAMA
www.sorayama.jp/

Erwin Wurm

“Absurdity helps me to clarify, to make the view clear”

Have you ever seen a fat car? Maybe a thin house? It sounds like the start of a joke but for Austrian artist Erwin Wurm, who has spent much of his career exploring sculpture, space and the human form, it is a way to gain a new perspective or understanding of the world around us. While Wurm uses humour as a tool to get peoples attention, ultimately his work is intended to prompt people to look at things more carefully.

With one of his most well-known works, One Minute Sculptures, viewers are invited to take part in and become the artwork themselves. Wurm provides handwritten instructions accompanied by cartoon-like drawings so that viewers can pose with everyday objects, often in absurd and humorous ways.

Wurm states that “I am interested in the everyday life. All the materials that surrounded me could be useful, as well as the objects, topics involved in contemporary society. My work speaks about the whole entity of a human being: the physical, the spiritual, the psychological and the political.” NR Magazine joined the artist in conversation.

Much of your work revolves around the concept of consumerist excess and gluttony. Does your work critique the people who are manipulated to consume in such an excessive way or the capitalist society that entices and forces them to do so? 

It doesn’t critique the people, it critiques the system and the idea of the system. But on the other side, it wasn’t only a critique. I was working on the notion of sculpture and what does it mean to make a sculpture. Then I came to some basic questions, when I make something I add volume and take volume away. When we gain and lose weight we do the same, so you could say gaining and losing weight is a sculptural thing. I found this strange absurd relation interesting. The sculptural issue was always combined with the social issue. Sometimes it’s more a critique of consumerism, sometimes it’s addressing questions about our entire life, and psychology, and all these things.

One of your most well-known series of works is One Minute Sculptures in which viewers pose with objects to become ephemeral sculptures. As these ‘sculptures’ are then captured with photography what separates them from say, an image on social media with someone posing in a similar way? What makes one a ‘sculpture’ and the other simply a funny image? 

Well first, I started doing them in 1992 far before social media existed. At the time I invited people to follow my instructions and I made little drawings so people could realise the sculpture. It was an attempt to democratise the concept, so everybody can be a part of the art piece. So I invited the public to follow these instructions and at that time we offered mainly, at the exhibitions, Polaroid photographs. So they would have a Polaroid taken of them and then they would go home with it.

This was far before social media existed, but then social media came and now everyone comes into my shows with mobile phones and takes selfies. But it’s cool, it’s great, and they transport them out into the world. And many people know my work. I was surprised that this became a success because as an artist you always have doubts. I was very surprised that it became so successful.

You consider the physical act of gaining and losing weight as a sculptural gesture. Is the intention for your work simply to explore the sculptural form of gaining and losing mass or is it a greater commentary of the danger and damage diet culture causes? 

I was playing with this diet culture because I remember when I was younger, it started in the 70s, there were these photographs about gaining weight. These double portraits with one slim one fat. I turned it around and made a portrait of one slim one fat, so I was playing with the important questions of daily life. Important questions which everybody and all these magazines were dealing with.

You are known for using humour to explore serious topics in your art. Do you think that people these days, particularly the younger generation, see using humour as a coping mechanism as part of their collective identity? If so how do you think that affects how they approach the creative sphere?

My humour comes from the idea of the absurd. I’m very influenced by the absurd like Beckett, Ionesco, and all the others. Also, the idea of paradox, looking from the paradox and the absurd angle to view our world and maybe see something else, something different. This is necessary because our world is fucked up, and in a very bad condition, and it gets worse and worse.

“I think we have to start making steps back and look at what we are doing.”

Where we have brought the world and how we will treat our world in the future. Absurdity helps me to clarify, to make the view clear in a way. And humour is a part of absurdity, yes. Sometimes humour is a good thing to use, but not always because I’m not a joke teller. I don’t want to become someone who is just telling jokes. I want to be taken seriously, even though sometimes I use humour as a certain method.

You often extend and alter reality in intriguing, humorous and disturbing ways. Do you think viewers connect with your work because there is a common desire for escapism in a post-capitalist society?

Maybe? But frankly, I never thought about this very seriously because I’m more intrigued by my work. I feed into my own work and my own universe. I try to get the best out of it and then I show it to the public and they discuss it. They love it or they hate it or whatever but I am more focused on my work and not so much the reaction of my work.

So you say you dive into your universe, how would you describe that?

I create certain issues in my work and certain quality criteria. I always try to get better and it’s getting worse and then it’s getting better and then not. So it’s a constant fight. It’s a daily fight with my work and the rules inside my work, the different components and the quality aspects that I’m fighting for. Sometimes it goes very easy and very smooth and sometimes it’s very edgy and complicated. Sometimes I don’t get to the point and I don’t even know where the point is. The point is disappearing and I have no idea what I’m doing. Then desperation is following and then it’s releasing again and it’s constant up and down. But I think every artist can give you this same answer. Because an artists life is not like you know what you are doing and you just do it. It’s full of doubts and shortcuts in a way. That makes it exciting, but also exhausting sometimes.

Do you have a specific way you approach your work, say from coming up with an idea to seeing it to fruition?

Yeah so when you work a lot, you get more and more ideas. I never run out of ideas, but it’s whether they are good or not. I write them down and make little notes and little drawings in little booklets. I look at them after a certain time and when I find something interesting I make a mark of it. Then I go on with it and I come back and forwards and backwards. In one moment I think “Oh that’s a good idea I could do something out of this”, and then I have to decide “What do I do?” Do I make a photograph, or a video, or a 3D sculpture, or a drawing, or a painting, or whatever? So that’s a second process and this lasts sometimes a long time, sometimes a year or more, and others times it goes very quick. It depends on my mood or my idea.

Your work deals with philosophy drawing inspiration from philosophers from the early twentieth century. Is there a philosopher or philosophy that stands out particularly when it comes to your work as a whole?

Well yes, because I’m Austrian there were always two guys who were very influential on me. One isn’t actually a philosopher but a psychologist, Sigmund Freud of course. The inventor of psychoanalysis, he’s Viennese.  The other is Liechtenstein, who was a linguist describing and trying to make order of the world through language. Just the opposite of Sigmund Freud which is very interesting too.

For other people, if you go back to Montaigne who was a philosopher from the Renaissance. By writing about the world, just by writing about himself and his family, and his needs and necessities, and his desires and his longings, that made him write about the world. It’s so interesting because that’s what artists are doing.

“When we make work about us, in a way we mean the world.”

When it’s functioning well, it’s accessible for many people. if it’s just a story about your grandmother nobodies interested, but if you’re able to lift up a story that is accessible to many people, then it’s interesting.

How do you find that then comes out in your work?

That’s a good question. How do I know? Sometimes I have the feeling it works well, and then not. It’s a constant doubt, yes. That’s the fight that I was talking about before.

What advice do you have for young creatives?

Oh my God, go on! Don’t believe anybody! Because so many people gave me advice and much of it was good but also much of it was not good. So be critical with what you hear and what drives you. Be critical with yourself, and be critical with the world, and try to make it better every single day, and don’t give up. Don’t give up, go on. People will tell you “Oh there are so many artists in the world we don’t need another one” or “You will never make a living out of this.” I heard this always. Just go on. Just trust yourself. You really want to do it then do it. If you have doubts then stop and try to have a better life somewhere else. And I mean having doubts in the general idea of becoming an artist, not having doubts about the work you are doing.

Are you working on any projects at the moment and what plans do you have for the future? 

Oh, I have several shows coming up. I’m not able to go, but we made a show with augmented reality. They scan sculptures and then they transform them. You can go there and there is a QR code on the floor, and you see this sculpture pop up. Sometimes it’s very large and you can walk around them. I will be there on a flying carpet as an augmented reality also. It’s an experiment we did this recently and it was quite successful. In the fall I will do some other shows, so it’s going well, it’s going good! I have a lot to do, it’s very exciting. I’m looking forward to being able to have exhibitions and openings which I can go to.

Subscribe to our
Newsletter