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Ziqian Liu

Posted on by nr

NR Vol. 14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 316

Feature · Ziqian Liu
Words · Nicola Barrett

“props are not only objects, but also something that brings me ‘knowledge’ through photography.”

A faceless woman with black hair is reflected in the round silvery disc of a mirror. Surrounded sometimes by flowers, sometimes by fruit, these photographs are minimalistic and infinitely satisfying. Ziqian Liu is an independent Chinese photographer who developed her self taught practice whilst struggling to find a full-time job after graduation.

Liu explores two main themes within her work. The first examines the “symbiosis between human beings and nature” She states that “to some extent, it can be said that human beings and the rest of the natural world are equal – we live in the same world, breathing the same air, mutual tolerance.” Because of this, she attempts to illustrate a state of harmony between humans and nature within her work.

Secondly, she investigates the theme of perspective. Through her work, she conveys the need to scrutinise the same thing from different angles so one might discover different findings from the ones we already know. While she desires symmetry and order she understands that this is not always possible in an imperfect world. “In her work, the image in the mirror represents the idealised world she wishes to live in, and the integration with the outside is just a reminder to respect and recognise the imbalance in the real world, but also to adhere to the order and principles of our hearts.” NR Magazine joins the artist in conversation.

You have said that you want your photographs to show a peaceful harmony between humans and nature. However, is it even possible to have that said harmony in a post-capitalist society, where even with ethical sourcing the props you use in your images, such as the flowers and fruit, might have had a negative impact on nature?

I think the harmony mentioned still exists.

First of all, the props used in the pictures are all things that will be involved in my life. I will not prepare the props or throw them away for shooting but shoot what is in the home. Flowers are always in my home; they are my good friends. Fruit or vegetables are also on the menu of the day. In fact, when I shoot, I usually use the plant as the subject and myself as the prop. I will not deliberately change the form of the plant for the sake of the picture, but let my body match the inherent posture of the plant.

In the post-capitalist society, knowledge is in an irreplaceable and important position. Of course, I don’t think there is a clear boundary in the scope of knowledge. I think these props are not only objects, but also something that brings me “knowledge” through photography. I gained knowledge about plants while taking care of them, but more important is the change that solitude brought to my heart during shooting. The whole process was very positive and harmonious for me.

You have said you use mirrors in your images because you want to create the feeling of another reality within your work. Mirrors have often been considered as a bridge between reality in both mythology and popular culture, such as Louise Carol’s Alice Through the Looking Glass. Are these cultural stories something that has inspired you? 

In the beginning, it was a very coincidental reason to use mirrors in the images. Originally, I was just taking pictures of plants at home. When I had a rest, I picked up the mirror beside me to look at myself. At that time, I suddenly had the inspiration to try using a mirror in my photography. Later, I found this way of shooting is very interesting, so I stuck with it.

Later, when I saw works in which mirrors appeared, such as movies or even songs, I would feel very familiar, and I would pay special attention to the way mirrors appeared in these works, which sometimes brought me inspiration.

While you consider your work ‘a space that belongs to yourself’, you have also said that you want viewers to be able to imagine that the protagonist of these images can be anyone. Have you ever considered using plus-sized models or models from different backgrounds to create more diversity in your work?

Maybe I won’t consider a model for a few years. All my works are self-portrait to find the most suitable way to get along with myself, which is also the reason and original intention for me to stick to photography.

During the daily shooting, I was alone without any assistant or other people to help me. It is only when I am alone that I am most at peace and inspired to create these images. Sometimes I can only hear my own breathing. I can’t concentrate if I’m talking to people while I’m taking pictures. Secondly, only I have the best idea of what kind of picture I want to finish, such as how high the arm should be raised, how much distance is between me and the mirror, and so on. A very small difference will make a big difference. These details cannot be communicated with the model effectively, so I might insist on completing the work all by myself.

What does identity mean to you as an artist?

For me, identity is the same as occupation. It simply summarises who I am, but does not show the whole of a person. Identity is not important to me.

In fact, I only think that I am taking pictures in the way I love. I am very honoured to be regarded as an artist. This status also encourages me to continue to be myself, not to be disturbed by the outside world, and to shoot more pictures that can bring peace and beauty to the viewer.

You have mentioned your love for flowers many times and you often use them in your work. Do you choose the specific flowers according to their meaning? And if so does that meaning give a hidden message to each photograph? 

To be honest there are no specific choices and no hidden messages. As mentioned in the first question, I only take existing flowers at home. Before I became a photographer, I always go to the flower shop every weekend to pick out some fresh flowers, I enjoyed the vitality of my home very much.

You have stated that you use your artwork as a way to get to know yourself. Do you consider your art as a form of therapy to help you come to terms with your identity in life? 

I quite agree with what you said. I think artistic creation is a way for me to heal myself, just like yoga and meditation, which can bring positive effects to people.

Through photography, I find that the fusion of identity has a lot to do with the change of perspective, and the biggest feeling it gives me is that I can accept myself more easily. Before photography, I was very concerned about my appearance and looked in the mirror to see if there were any flaws that needed to be covered up. But by shooting with a mirror, I had a chance to see myself from different angles, and I discovered that the so-called ‘flaws’ have their own beauty, they are just a normal part of my body. I think the integration of identity has also led to a change in my mindset, a more positive and peaceful self.

Not long ago, I just summoned the courage to face a part of my body in front of the camera – the wrinkles on my stomach. It was the first time that I discovered the beauty of the traditional impression of “flaws”.

You have stated that you wish your work to be apolitical. Do you think that choice comes from a place of privilege, as many artists are unable to separate politics from their work, or is it a necessary choice for your own personal safety?

I don’t pay attention to politics too much in daily life, so the content of my works is mainly about the harmonious coexistence between human and nature, and has nothing to do with politics. But if when the political inspires my expression of desire, I don’t think I will withdraw.

You have said before that you enjoy solitude. Did you find that the pandemic allowed you to be more productive and was a fulfilling period in terms of your art practice? 

Yes, I enjoy solitude. All my work is done in solitude. In my opinion, in art practice, the most productive period is before I found my shooting style, and the most creative and efficient period is in the groping stage.

As more and more pictures are taken, I set higher requirements for myself, hoping that the content and details will be more refined. And I don’t want to be confined by a fixed style, so I try to make some changes on the original basis, so it takes more time to complete a work now than in the past.

What advice do you have for young creatives who want to work with photography? 

It is important to have confidence in ourselves, trying not to imitate. There is no good, bad, beautiful or ugly work. It is enough that the work comes from the heart and is sincere.

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

I like to let nature take its course and have no plans for the future. Now I am still working steadily on my own works.

Naomi Gilon

Posted on by nr

NR Vol. 14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 262

Feature · Naomi Gilon
Words · Izzy Bilkus

“It flows, it bubbles, it can be matte, shiny, satin – it’s great”

Multidisciplinary artist Naomi Gilon has a rich history of experimentation that encompasses a wide range of methods and materials. The Brussels based artist combines beauty with the macabre in a strong effort to break away from the restrains of the art world’s expectations.

Gilon’s ceramic work has a life of its own. Consisting of a series of sculpted bags with claw handles, vases with long witchy fingers and high heels with mangled toenails, her pieces challenge our perception of the medium. Drawing on a wellspring of inspiration from pop culture, fashion, gore, and mythology, Gilon explores the aesthetic and psychological potential in everyday objects and breathes new life into them through her process of metamorphosis.

Gilon embraces the fiendish and the unconventional in her practice and crafts her pieces with a glaring sense of beauty. Her ability to transform everyday items into otherworldly hybrids subvert our attachments and relationships to the objects, forcing us to sit with and question our sense of discomfort and ultimately, our sense of being.

NR Magazine speaks with the artist to find out what makes up the weird world of Naomi Gilon, and what her monstrous creations can reveal about us all.

Does the desire for experimentation with your work stem from anywhere? Do you channel this into other aspects of your life?  

It’s my way of expressing what I think. I have always been a shy child who listened to the needs of others. It’s not easy to extricate yourself from this behaviour when you become an adult. It’s both a work on myself and on others. I try to have a sociological point of view with my work. It’s a reciprocal exchange between my art and me; I bring reflections to my work through my reading for example, and conversely my works teach me a lot about life and myself. So, this desire to create and to experiment is simply a desire to live. I also channel this energy through botany. I like to see the evolution of plants.

Your practice has evolved a lot over the past few years – you’ve created installations with found objects and explored the tuning industry, whereas now, your practice has moved towards ceramics and crafting objects from scratch. Can you talk about this development?

It’s true that the discovery of ceramics was a revelation for me. Before that I worked mainly from assembly methods, textiles, car body parts, stickers, etc. The hybridization process was already present. As a self-taught ceramicist I’m able to not be in a system of appropriation of forms, but creations. I have almost total control over the objects I create.

Also, my subjects contrast to the ceramic material: fragility and violence, the sublime and the monstrous. I like it a lot because we are looking for confrontation. Beyond that, my thinking remains the same, over time I’ve just deepened it. It draws its source from popular culture. It’s a very large and constantly evolving subject.

Is constant artistic evolution important to you? 

Yes of course, it’s linked to our personal development. As I mentioned before with experimentation, the evolution of our work is needed to live.

You’ve exhibited your work in lots of places in Europe. What is most important to you when displaying and showcasing your pieces?

What is most important to me is sharing a story, first and foremost a fantastic story and something that makes you dream. We try to widen the boundaries of the mind and share it with as many people as possible.

I also realise that my works have their own existence. Once out of my imagination, they travel without me. We see them for what they are, and I become secondary, as sometimes I answer questions for interviews. What I mean is that my works don’t need my words to create a discussion with the person who encounters them.

Throughout the development of your practice, I’ve noticed that your sculpted claws have remained present in most of your pieces and have become a sort of key signifier for your work. Could you talk a bit about this recurrent motif? What is the narrative behind it?

The claws appeared to me through the imagery of car tuning – the beast under the hood, the roar of the engine, etc. Then at the same time I discovered the book ‘Crash’ by J. G. Ballard, the film ‘Christine’ by John Carpenter, and the film ‘Titanium’ by director Julia Ducournau.

Following this car-related imagery, I plunged into the world of gore and horror films. They’re an inexhaustible source for questioning the identity of a monster. I also turned to mythology, folktales, Nordic stories, etc, as well as representations of the figure of the monster in paintings through the centuries. It’s a timeless fascination.

“I consider my hybrid ceramic objects as the chimeras of our humanity. It’s the sublimation of the horror in our lives.”

Your work, and your recent ceramic pieces in particular draw on aspects of horror, gore, fashion, and pop culture. What are your specific influences and what intrigues you most about these things? Have they always been of interest to you? 

The human hybrid has fascinated me since I was little. I’ve never been a big fan of monsters before; it was through my painting studies at ENSAV La Cambre in Brussels that I explored these interests.

I’m influenced by the cartoonist Emil Ferris, the authors Aldous Huxley, René Barjavel, Philip K. Dick, George Orwell and the authors of the Nouveau Roman like Alain Robbe-Grillet. Also, directors like Ridley Scott for Blade Runner 1982 (my favourite film), Dario Argento for Suspiria in 1977, Rosemary’s Baby, David Cronenberg and Videodrome…. the list goes on and on.

The image of the monster can take different forms, it adapts to the times and that is what fascinates me. It’s always a reflection of society.

What is it like living as a creative in Brussels? Has Belgian culture influenced your work at all? 

Living in a large multicultural city is very rewarding, and Brussels has lots of great qualities. The arts scene is important, but I don’t draw inspiration from it directly. Everyone is obviously hugely influenced by the internet. Subliminally my influences are global.

But still, I love the work of Aline Bouvy and Xavier Mary – they marked my debut in the art world.

What was your aim when creating your online shop?

To break the notion of art acquisition. During my studies we were told that walking into an art gallery is like walking into a store. I never found it easy, and I think most art spaces want to keep that aspect of privilege. By creating an online shop, I feel like I’m breaking away from these principles. People who enjoy my work can acquire it as easily as going to collect bread in a bakery. We buy unique things in an almost banal way. And the direct creator-to-buyer relationship is easier than having one or two intermediaries, but I do enjoy collaborations and discovering new networks of people, I think that’s really important.

The form and texture of your pieces have always been interesting to me. What’s your approach to working with different materials, and are there specific materials you enjoy working with the most? 

I really like materials that imitate others, like faux fur textiles or mock snakeskin, or materials that drip, or spread like a disease. I love studying the set design and makeup of 1920s gore films.

I also love having my hands in clay. It feels like a real connection to the earth. My favourite part is the last step; that of enamelling. There’re always surprises. The colours are always unique and have an almost captivating depth. It flows, it bubbles, it can be matte, shiny, satin – it’s great.

What have you been finding inspiration from at the moment?

My creations of monstrous shoes were inspired by the exhibition ‘MARCHE ET DÉMARCHE’, at MAD in Paris in 2019. My interest in the historical journey of objects emerged from this exhibition. This is a process that is now part of my thinking and methodology. My new bag series is also based on a nod to the past; it’s an object with great history and connotations, that never ceases to evolve, like a living being.

You’ve mentioned that with your work you try to put societal fears and desires into narratives, words, and images. Why is this important for you, and has this always been a focus of yours?

It’s a way of making memory appear physical, and to create memories of objects. When I started out as an artist, the term ‘connotation’ was a big part of my way of thinking. The spare parts of cars whose sheets were crumpled, bent, and scratched were the vestiges of a moment in time and of an emotion.

The concept of time is very important to me because it moves so fast and takes with it the things that have forged us like words, objects, smells and people. When I make a piece of ceramic, it’s a product of all the thoughts that I have during that moment that permeate the clay. I’m a very nostalgic person and I must highlight all those moments that will eventually disappear. I think that’s a big fear of mine – my ‘monster’.

What is your usual process for creating hybridisations and distortions of objects?

It’s not a process, it’s just an automatism. Bringing everyday things to life that we no longer pay attention to.

“Everything is important and nothing is trivial. I don’t have a specific method.”

You work a lot with commonplace objects. What interests you about working with them? You describe your work as ‘unique and precious banalities’, so it’s clear that you see a lot of creative and critical potential within these objects.

It’s like listening to the radio every day and hearing the number of people who have died from Covid, migratory accidents, wars and attacks; it hits us for a few seconds and then we continue with our daily life. Like the words of Hannah Arendt, its ‘the banality of evil.’ This might be a bad example, but humans make everything that doesn’t directly impact them uninteresting and unimportant. I’m not interested in the individualistic human.

I like the idea of asserting individuality and sharing it. I want to banish the idea of normality. Recognising its privileged position is the first step in thinking about things differently.

What is left on the day you die? The image of us, but it is not eternal. Objects into which we’ll have slipped a few words of love, the words on the back of a postcard, or a compilation of music that we have probably listened to hundreds of times. Life is abstract and complex, so you we should go beyond it and make the mundane things unique and precious.

What things outside of your practice do you feel are ‘unique and precious’?

The people we love and the mysterious things that bind us to them. I’m a lonely person (besides being nostalgic), but I love being around the people I love and listening to them talk. I love to read and taking the time to do nothing.

With the theme of this issue being Identity, I thought it would be interesting to hear your thoughts on how you explore your own identity through your work.

My artistic approach is mixed with my personal matters, it forms a hybrid. The evolution of my works reflects my own determination and of the way in which, little by little, I come into alignment with who I am. We must establish a harmonious cohabitation between our inner and outer being, between the angel and the demon. We should learn from our mistakes and accept that we will make them. The monstrous hand kind of symbolises this oscillation between the two sides of our identity.

Many aspects of your work revolve around monstrous forms. Could you talk a bit about how you explore the concept of the body?

I see the body as a hybrid object, something organic that evolves and distributes energy, both positive and negative.

Like J-M Gustave Le Clézio said, we’re contained in a sack of skin. I find once again that it’s something incredible yet minimised. Moving your body, feeding it, making it work properly is a wonderful thing and full of mystery.

I really like the vegetable head portraits of the painter Giuseppe Arcimboldo because he presents us with a vision that goes beyond our human limits, and which reminds us of the fact that we can be anything. We’re not that different to vegetables and we too will rot one day.

I’m also influenced by the chaotic landscapes of Jérôme Bosch, where we can see the energy of living and the beauty of heterogeneity.

Where do you see your practice heading? What can we expect from you in the future?

I’m working on many new projects. Hopefully I can still work collaboratively in the world of styling. I also want to explore new materials alongside ceramics. I have a solo show at the end of October in Brussels and joint show at the end of November in Amsterdam.

Credits

Images · NAOMI GILON
Interview · IZZY BILKUS
Discover Naomi Gilon’s work here www.naomigilon.com

Max Siedentopf

Posted on by nr

NR Vol. 14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 324

Feature · Max Siedentopf
Words · Nicola Barrett

“Turns out, there’s actually a lot you can do while taking your serious passport photo”

Somewhere in the golden sands of the oldest desert in the world, the Namib stands a circle of white plinths. On them sit speakers, playing Africa’s Toto for, well, eternity. Or at least that’s what Namibian-German artist Max Siedentopf tell us, the location of this artwork is undisclosed and, as no one has yet to find it, it’s rather hard to verify if it’s actually still blasting “We bless the rains down in Africa” into the wilderness.

This tongue in cheek in cheek approach is seen throughout much of Siedentopf’s work, his guerrilla art installation which involved binoculars tied to the railings of the viewing terrace at the Tate Modern allowed visitors to zoom into Roger Stirk Harbour + Partner’s Neo Bankside housing across from the gallery. It was a response to the residents of Neo Bankside taking the Tate to court as they claim the viewing gallery “unreasonably interferes with their use of their flats.” Siedentopf pointed out that the “Please respect our neighbour’s privacy” the Tate put up seems like a sign for an art exhibit and pointed out the irony of having huge windows that no one is ‘allowed’ to look into.

More recently he has created works about the pandemic, including a series of mask alternatives like bras, lettuce leaves and shoes, (which was met with some controversy as he created the series early in the pandemic), and an online series titled Home Alone – A Survival Guide which depicted a series of challenges for those bored at home during the lockdown. NR Magazine joins the artist in conversation.

What does Identity mean to you as an artist? 

That changes every time I look in the mirror.

You are known for your guerrilla artworks, examples being Please Respect Our Neighbour’s Privacy at the Tate and Slapdash Supercars, and in addition to these, you also created artworks while stuck at home during lockdown. Do you think, as we become more digital, artists are moving away from the need for gallery backing or even gallery spaces to build their reputation? 

Yes, of course, there are so many new and incredible ways today for artists to show and capitalise on their work that the gallery system isn’t the only way an artist needs to go today. With the click of a button, artists can show their work to a global audience and the success of your work is a lot more determined by the actual quality of the work and less by the gatekeepers of the gallery world.

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? 

I think humour often helps tackle serious subjects in a more digestible way for a wider public;

“I’m sure when the world will finally end the last artwork will be a funny meme about how the world is ending.”

However even there is a strong increase in art using humour as a coping mechanism, at the same time art has also become more serious than ever and there is much stronger pressure to make “politically correct art” which sucks out most of the fun – it’s like pleasing a big committee, in the end, no one hates it, but no one is super happy about it either.

Your work Toto Forever, in which Africa by Toto is played in the Namib Desert on a constant loop, gained quite a lot of attention, but you have never disclosed the exact location. Has anyone ever been able to find it and do you know if it’s still playing? 

Good question, I guess you will need to find it, to find out.

I’m curious, has anyone ever questioned the validity of Toto Forever? It reminds me somewhat of the moon landing conspiracy theories, and as there is no exact location for people to visit I wonder if anyone has asked you if it’s fake? 

Wait, the moon landing wasn’t real?

Passport photos play such a huge part in our ‘official’ government recognised identity, but in reality, they show very little of us. How did you come up with the idea for this project? 

The series came about when I had to take a new passport photo. I thought to myself that being a passport photographer must be one of the most depressing things a photographer could do as there are so many rules. Your head needs to be straight, nothing may cover your face, you’re not allowed to smile and you need to have a plain white background. I wanted to challenge all these rules and find a way that you could still express yourself even under such heavy restrictions. Turns out, there’s actually a lot you can do while taking your serious passport photo.

Do you think in the future, technology will change how we are identified? 

Of course – on the plus side I think it will make a lot of processes a whole lot easier, from how we travel, check-in or pay, however as with every technology that makes our lives easier we will need to give something in return, in this case, a piece of our anonymity and personal freedom.

Your project Home Alone – A Survival Guide was popular on social media and many people joined in the challenges you set. Now people are struggling with going back to normality as restrictions are being eased. Would you ever consider doing a second project, a survival guide for the outside as it were? 

I didn’t think about it until this question but I could imagine it could be a good series – as life slowly goes back to “normality”  I think there are a lot of factors that should be readjusted to a new way of living.

“I strongly believe we shouldn’t just chase the reality we had before the pandemic, which in many ways feels quite reckless (and got us into this mess in the first place) and instead focus on new, more responsible ways of living our day-to-day life.”

A step-by-step survival guide could be a good start.

Your project How To Survive A Deadly virus was met with some controversy, do you think if you had made it a year later people’s reactions would have been different?

Yes definitely and since the series came out I’ve seen hundreds of artist impressions similar to the series. However the series came out the beginning of February 2021, a time when most people in Europe were still very naive towards what was going on and didn’t anticipate it would ever affect their own lives – the series was a classic example of “too soon” and it was too early to talk about such a serious subject with humour. However, a few months later the series was received very differently when people started to accept the new reality and were able to joke about it.

What advice do you have for young creatives?

Eat your vegetables, exercise, spend quality time with your family, make work that brings you joy and most importantly don’t overthink too much, in the end, nothing really matters anyway.

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

Always – however the only certain plan for the future is to eventually end up in a coffin.

Credits

Images · MAX SIEDENTOPF
www.maxsiedentopf.com/

Mathias Schmitt

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NR Vol. 14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 226

Feature · Mathias Schmitt
Words · Izzy Bilkus

“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

Posted on by nr

NR Vol. 14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 218

Feature · Kayra Atasoy
Words · Izzy Bilkus

“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

Posted on by nr

NR Vol. 14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 168

Feature · Jessamyn Lovell
Words · Nicola Barrett

“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

Posted on by nr

NR Vol. Vol.14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 444

Feature · Intak Song
Words · Izzy Bilkus

“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/

Alessia Gunawan

Posted on by nr

NR Vol.14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 080

Feature · Alessia Gunawan
Words · Izzy Bilkus

“I hope to see myself as never fully fixed, and as someone who can question and create conversations with the necessary depth by involving others (in and outside the art world) and by constantly experimenting through different modes of communication.”

Based between the UK, Italy and Indonesia, photographer Alessia Gunawan captures a unique and mysterious sense of reality in her world of images. Not one to limit herself to a strict definition of her creative practice, Gunawan’s approach is one of fluidity which sparks important questions and delves deeper into burgeoning social issues in contemporary society.

Taking a peek into the photographer’s ethereal images sheds light on issues prevalent within internet and pop culture, socio-political frameworks and the interconnectedness of modern life. Gunawan’s work often takes on an otherworldly feel. Her photographs are staged with great consideration and ease, and there is a tangible sense of uneasiness within them that tease and invite viewers to take a closer look. With a sharp gaze, Gunawan captures the uncanniness of the everyday.

Influenced by her changing lifestyles and travels across Italy, Indonesia and England, Gunawan seeks out an interconnectedness in her work and places a great importance on her ability to break free from the limitations of academia. Gunawan claims that she doesn’t see a specific style that is present throughout her work. For her, it is more a case of exploring narratives in the themes she explores. She aims to unveil the various aspects of the globalized and seemingly connected contemporary culture.

NR Magazine speaks with the photographer to delve deeper into her creative background and how she explores her identity as an artist through her reflections on modern life.

Could you talk to me about your creative background and what initially attracted you to working with photography?

Growing up I was always surrounded by creativity, mainly because my parents are fashion designers. Although our interests and styles differ significantly, I always saw them drawing and doing research. At one point, when I was 16 years old, I did a short course at Central Saint Martins. I initially thought I would get into fashion design, but while doing the course I really enjoyed the art direction and executive part.

When I moved to Italy, I began living in a tiny city in the south called Lecce, in Puglia. Although I had the chance to create fond memories there, I was bored most of the time, and started taking photos and creating narratives of my own. Sometimes I’d take self-portraits, and other times I’d use my friends as subjects. I was captivated by its performative aspect, especially when contextualizing them after in whichever platform I thought they’d work the best.

I was able to create different personas, and it was accessible at any time. So it was a way to make mini-movies for me and my friends to enjoy.

When do you feel like you first started to shape your creative vision?

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened. Maybe this means that I haven’t fully shaped my creative vision yet. It’s never fixed, and it’s continuously changing as it moulds into something different, reflecting my interests and the growth I am going through at a particular moment in my life.

I am saying this because I have never really had a definitive idea of what I wanted to do and what direction I wanted to take. I gave myself the opportunity to experiment with different things I might want to do. Also, having friends in London with whom I could collaborate helped me a lot in the process, and it all came about quite naturally.

University also played a massive role in this. My BA course under stimulated me, as it was too traditional and fixed in academia, but I tried to find stimuli elsewhere because I wasn’t enjoying it. If you live in London, this can be very easy. There are a lot of events and workshops happening all the time, so you can find your own way of learning, and that’s what’s so special about London – the DIY culture that drives its creative industry.

As I found my BA to be unsatisfying, I took the time to understand what I wanted to do, and after a year, I decided to do an MA in a school that helped me develop my practice. I was fully committed to it, and I was in the right mindset to start the course. I think this was also the first time I let myself trust my practice and my mistakes. Looking back, it was probably the first time I felt like I was doing something that was right for me.

With the theme of this issue being Identity, I’d love to know how working between the UK, Italy and Indonesia has impacted you and the evolution of your photographic style. 

Each country I’ve lived in has helped express different aspects of my interests. Visually, politically, and socially speaking, they all offered other narratives. Still, sometimes they would interconnect in unexpected ways, and that intersection is what my work is always trying to explore – the subtle glimpse of our globalized network.

Having moved around so much, is sharing your personal experiences and displaying a sense of interconnectedness throughout your work important to you? 

Yes. Our work is often a reflection of our experiences. Whether we want to speak about it in the first person or through different characters or narratives is a choice. For the stories and themes I have chosen to explore further, I felt it was necessary to talk about them from a place of personal experience.

How do you see yourself as a visual narrator and curator?

I hope to see myself as never fully fixed, and as someone who can question and create conversations with the necessary depth by involving others (in and outside the art world) and by constantly experimenting through different modes of communication.

One of my favourite projects of yours was your documented trip to Morocco. You’ve mentioned that this place made you feel a genuine need to go back to the instinctive desire to take photographs – this sense of intuition definitely comes across in the series. Have any other places affected you in this way? 

Travelling often creates this feeling. When we’re unfamiliar with somewhere, we tend to get excited and curious, and we use cameras to satisfy our need to distil a memory and connect with the surrounding context.

When I’m traveling and not doing it for work, I usually let myself be intuitive with my camera. I’m not too precious about the things I capture. It’s like small talk – you start the conversation for the simple need to connect, which sometimes will lead you somewhere unexpected. It’s very different from the work method I learned at school, where everything had to be schematic and pre-calculated.

In these scenarios, I tend to trust the process and have fun with it. It all started when I first travelled to Hong Kong on a family trip. I went there with the Indonesian side of my family, and as we were a big group, we travelled by bus and had everything planned. I wanted a break from the tourist stops, so I decided to walk around and take photographs. I was 16 and a very anxious child, but I felt like it was one of the first times I felt a sense of independence, and I was having the most fun doing research and taking photos of all the places I found interesting.

Looking at your body of work, you have a clarity of purpose and a unique eye for expressing intimate and almost otherworldly moments. How has your style and vision evolved over the years, and where do you see it heading?

I guess that someone who isn’t familiar with my work might see it as chaotic at times, as I’m constantly shifting my position between fashion photography and my artistic practice. Although they are both very different worlds, they do inform each other sometimes. For example, fashion photography has a faster pace in digesting trends and information around you, and the art world has a slower way of processing things.

When I was living in London, I was mainly collaborating with my friends. They sometimes wanted to try out styling or graphic design, and I wanted to try out fashion photography, so things started naturally, and I enjoyed it a lot. Towards my last year in London, I felt as though I wanted to do something different. When I started my MA degree in photography, I dedicated most of my time to developing my practice through short films, installations, and anything I found worth experimenting with for my work’s purpose. As a result, I naturally gravitated towards what I wanted to do and felt free once again in testing out different things. That was a definitive moment, as I then tried to use photography more narratively – as if it were contaminated by my artistic practice.

After mostly working in fashion photography, I want to dedicate more time to my personal projects, so I started researching again for a project I have been planning to do for the past year, and after this long pause, it feels good to be doing it again.

You work with videography as well, and your project ‘Ur My Final Fantasy’ explores the subject of intimacy. Could you talk a bit more about the influences behind this project?

‘Ur My Final Fantasy’ came about when I was questioning our current understanding of intimacy. I had just moved away from London, and I was interested in the fast-paced approach of the intimate connection of big cities and the sudden growing interest of people in approaching relationships through spiritual guidance. I started wondering about people’s interest in tantric sex and building connection through breathing, observing and other nuanced and powerful gestures.

I began researching the subject from a sociological point of view to better understand the changes occurring. I was also exploring the camming wave that has been growing exponentially in the past few years, primarily due to platforms like OnlyFans. I loved looking at the interiors – the soft lighting, the teddy bears in the back, the tacky IKEA frames filled with generic quotes about life. They all became symbols that suggested an intimate space where both agents could feel safe and comfortable.

Something similar also happened with role-playing videos. My favourite video was found on Pornhub, and I became obsessed with it as soon as I saw it. It was a boyfriend role play video and had a first-person point of view where you (as the viewer) would be put into bed, all tucked up, and serenaded with an acoustic guitar. He would then give you a forehead kiss and talk to you in classic ASMR style to help you fall asleep.

I’ve noticed it on YouTube too. Many vloggers have started to adopt these small gestures to overcome boundaries and create a deeper connection with their followers. It feels odd, but it works. That’s why people are also making mukbang videos a lot. Viewers feel closer to people and less lonely.

I love your work for Garbage Core’s Season 07. How important is fashion and experimentation to you? What was the process like when shooting this lookbook?

Fashion and experimentation have always been important to me. I can’t go a long period of time without creating space for myself to experiment in fashion. I love working with a team that inspires me, and fashion allows that. Editorials can be very fun, and depending on which magazine you develop them for, they can be less commercial and have more freedom. You can have the freedom to question the boundaries of visual language and how they engage with fashion, art, and cinematic narratives. There are so many exciting magazines nowadays that do that, and it’s exciting to see how it’ll develop.

Shooting Giuditta Tanzi’s Garbage Core collection was amazing as always. She shares her studio with my partner, so I get to see her all the time. I’ve always been a fan of her work. I’m interested in how people rework existing items, and her dedication and attention with each garment inspires me.

Working on the last lookbook came about naturally. Because we see each other quite often, we tend to exchange our interests and discuss things a lot. Also, as this collection included a lot of semi-transparent materials and minute details, we thought it would be best to keep it simple and to have the right lighting to highlight those aspects.

What do you value most about your image making process?

Depending on the project, researching and developing ideas in the first round of shoots is always fun. You get to understand what works and what doesn’t. I always show up with lots of written ideas but never end up completing them most of the time. Instead, I end up following the energy of the environment, as everyone in the team creates an important dynamic. I tend to trust that most of the time, because it’s better than what I could have imagined on my own.

A lot of your work has an ethereal and eerie feel to it. How do you go about creating this aesthetic? 

When visually developing a project, I tend not to confine myself to anything. I’m constantly questioning and experimenting with various modalities to better understand which one is the most  effective.

Your projects like ‘Jill Army’ and ‘Counter Faith’ take inspiration from aspects of different elements of pop culture and contemporary social issues. Have these subjects always been something you felt the need to interrogate with your work?

Yes, I’m constantly questioning globalized ideologies of pop culture – in some projects more than others. ‘Counter Faith’, contrary to ‘Jill Army’ feels more domestic, as the project starts as an investigation of my family’s experience as Chinese Indonesians in the confines of the segregated communities of Jakarta. But as with every project I have done, it always tries to tackle and question bigger issues, and how these feelings evolve with the involvement of new technologies. In this particular case, I was interested in how we digest and portray violence and how certain media reduces narratives, breeds trauma, and generates extreme ideologies.

How do you feel you explore different aspects of your identity in your work?

I’m always writing, and when I have a question persisting in my mind, I tend to explore it and try to understand why I am so fixated with it.

Sometimes my research doesn’t move forward much, but it does develop into something more tangible.

Aude Le Barbey

Posted on by nr

NR Vol. 14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 26

Songe À La Douceur

Team

Photographer · AUDE LE BARBEY
Fashion Stylist · PAULINE GROSJEAN
Models · JEANNE GODIN AND CHAN DUTEIL

Designers

  1. Overshirt and Hat LANVIN
  2. Top GAMUT
  5. Bomber jacker DIOR
  7. Sock with zip LARUICCI
  8. Dress ALEXANDRE BLANC
  9. Necklace ACNE STUDIOS
  10. Left Top VITELLI Trousers VAILLANT STUDIO Right Jeans ARTHUR AVELLANO
  11. Top LARUICCI
  13. Sweatshirt LARUICCI

Ottavia Di Leo

Posted on by nr

NR Vol. 14 Identity · Autumn Winter 2021
Published · Print Page 376

Team

Photographer · Ottavia Di Leo
Fashion Stylist · Lorenzo Chiara
Casting Director · Silvia Macchioni
Models · Maria Baza AT Elite Model Milan AND Paola
Makeup and Hair Artist · Manuela Balducci
Nail Artist · Maria Fernanda
Fashion Stylist · Assistant Domiziana Donghia

Designers

  1. Jumpsuit ROBERTO CAVALLI Jacket VERSACE Earrings ROUSSEY Shoes Stylist’s archive
  2. Jacker VERSACE Bag ABRA Top, Turtleneck and Culottes OH CARLA Shoes VERSACE
  3. Dress KENZO Earrings ROUSSEY Boots ABRA
  4. Blazer and Leggings NO DRESS Necklace VERSACE Shoes Stylist’s archive
  5. Top NO DRESS Skirt DIESEL
  6. Shirt DIESEL Top OH CARLA Bag VERSACE Earrings ROUSSEY Shoes Stylist’s archive
  7. Full Look OH CARLA Bracelet VERSACE
  8. Skirt DIESEL Bag and Shoes VERSACE Top NO DRESS Jacket OH CARLA
  9. Top NO DRESS Bag and Boots LANVIN Earrings and Bracelet VERSACE Bikini Stylist’s archive
  10. Blazer NO DRESS Necklace VERSACE
  11. Coat LANVIN Necklace ROUSSEY Boots ABRA
  12. Coat LANVIN Necklace ROUSSEY
  13. Top NO DRESS Bag and Boots LANVIN Earrings and Bracelet VERSACE Bikini Stylist’s archive
  14. Coat LANVIN Necklace ROUSSEY
  15. Full Look VERSACE Bag ABRA
  16. Dress KENZO Earrings ROUSSEY Boots ABRA
  17. Coat LANVIN Necklace ROUSSEY
  18. Shirt DIESEL Top OH CARLA Bag VERSACE Earrings ROUSSEY Shoes Stylist’s archive
  19. Coat LANVIN Necklace ROUSSEY Boots ABRA
  20. Jumpsuit ROBERTO CAVALLI Jacket VERSACE Earrings ROUSSEY Shoes Stylist’s archive
  21. Blazer and Leggings NO DRESS Necklace VERSACE Shoes Stylist’s archive

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