When I first began photographing I was struck by the sumptuous, subtle qualities of black and white prints carefully crafted from large format negatives. This fascination has stuck with me for more than two decades, and I still work with an old, 15-pound film camera most would consider obsolete. To me, my subjects are living sculptures, many of which I have grown in the small green house that has overtaken most of my studio. I was led to this choice of subject by its rich photographic history; from the early minimalist work of Karl Blossfeldt to modern masters such as Kenro Izu, Tom Baril and Ron Van Dongen. I use design principles borrowed from the old master painters; those employed by the iconic photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson, but which have been all but forgotten by modern artists. I work in this way because keeping these old traditions alive is what keeps the fire in my stomach burning, and what gets me excited every time I step into my studio to photograph.
Links
Share
When I first began photographing I was struck by the sumptuous, subtle qualities of black and white prints carefully crafted from large format negatives. This fascination has stuck with me for more than two decades, and I still work with an old, 15-pound film camera most would consider obsolete. To me, my subjects are living sculptures, many of which I have grown in the small green house that has overtaken most of my studio. I was led to this choice of subject by its rich photographic history; from the early minimalist work of Karl Blossfeldt to modern masters such as Kenro Izu, Tom Baril and Ron Van Dongen. I use design principles borrowed from the old master painters; those employed by the iconic photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson, but which have been all but forgotten by modern artists. I work in this way because keeping these old traditions alive is what keeps the fire in my stomach burning, and what gets me excited every time I step into my studio to photograph.
DE
EN
ES
FR
中文){kind=link}