I’m sat here trying to work out how I came across the work of Miho Kajioka. It took me a few minutes but I think that I’ve reconstructed it. I tend to hopscotch around from a photographer I read about in this book to digging into who else did the book publisher work with and on and on.
I recently came across IIKKI, a collaborative project between a visual artist and a music artist. IIKKI publishes books and pairs them with music releases. What a cool idea. Their latest release is a book from Miho Kajioka paired with music from Ian Hawgood and Craig Tattersall. And we’re off to the races.
Miho was born in Japan and then moved to San Fransisco to study fine art painting, where she was introduced to photography as one of her classes. Miho returned to Japan where she was working as a journalist when the Tsunami devastated the Fukushima area. Miho returned to art and photography to help her process what she was seeing. I’m glad she did!
I have seen her photography described as ‘snapshot’ photography which struck me as odd, since her photographs look nothing like my snapshots! Working in the traditional darkroom to make silver gelatin prints she works her negatives, some more than others, to reveal her vision. I’m fascinated at the moment with trying to reverse engineer Miho’s technical process. How does she achieve those creamy whites and the delicate blacks?
Her work is also giving me insights into my own tastes and how my work could evolve. I like the simplicity in her images. They are frequently paired down to just the essence, often juxtaposing contrasting elements. For me this makes a stronger statement and gives me space to think.
Check out more of Miho’s work at her website here and listen to her describe her journey and her work in the interview below.
I was excited to see recently that a new edition of Masao Yamamoto’s retrospective book “Small Things in Silence’ will be published in May. It looks like it will have a new cover and additional images. This news made be go through my library and dig out the previous version of the book and take a look.
Masao Yamamoto was originally trained as an artist, studying oil painting with Goro Saito in Gamagori City, before turning to photography. As an artist his range of subjects include the nude, still life, landscape and wildlife. To these subjects he brings a painters eye and aesthetic, pushing the gelatin silver process by dyeing, toning with things such as tea distressing the final prints. The result is of course much more than a straight representation, achieving a more ethereal and poetic quality.
One of the striking things for me is the print size. Masao’s prints are typically small – small enough to be hand held. This way of finishing the work is the antithesis of the ‘immersive print’ movement. Prints so large that you can almost feel as though you could walk into them. Intimate prints beg for a different kind of engagement, a more personal one. A print that you can hold in your hand invites you to look deeper. Printing images like this makes the statement that this is only a small piece of a larger whole.
Check out the videos below to hear Masao talk about his work and see more on his Instagram page here.
I am just about moved into my new office which while exciting means that I have piles of magazines and books that I have to sort through, organize and get on bookshelves in a semi-logical order. It’s more work than I would like it to be and also means that in the interim I have to hunt for books that I need for reference.
I was recently looking, unsuccessfully I might add, for some books on alternate processes when I came across Terry Barret’s ‘Criticizing Photographs’. I’ve read and reread ‘Criticizing Photographs’ multiple times over the years and struggled each time. I feel that it’s not that complicated and yet continue to struggle. On this visit I found an interesting equation buried in one of the chapters:
Meaning = Subject Matter + Medium + Form + Context
While I’m not going to argue whether this is right or wrong it’s useful to occasionally stop and think about how the choices that we make as photographers influence what we’re trying to say with our photographs. There are a couple of takeaways for me from this that mostly relate to context and medium that I want to dig at a little here.
By my own estimation much of the photography that I deliberately look at is in that collected in books. While this should have rung some bells for me it took the above equation for me to realize that the way that we present our work will have a significant impact whether we fully realize our intent for it. A single image from a series may work just fine but may not have the impact if it were seen as part of the larger project presented in a book. It also struck me that regardless of how you arrange images for a gallery show there’s still not the same strong physical connection between images that can be achieved by placing images on facing pages in a book. It’s not necessarily better, just different and certainly worth paying attention to as you’re developing projects.
The message is in the medium or not. Perhaps as much or more than most I can get sucked into the technical aspects of photography and forget that you’re supposed to actually be saying something. At the end of last year I took a brief detour into the world of photogravure. Even though I had read Brooks Jensen’s piece on testing the quality of inkjet prints against traditional photographic prints including photogravure the tactile experience I had with the Norman Ackroyd print I had recently acquired drew me on. That and the fact that what I knew about photogravure seemed to me to be ‘real’ printing and involved an element of craft that I had come to believe that making an inkjet printing lacks. I even went as far as meeting with a local expert to discuss how my photographs would translate to photogravures – her answer they wouldn’t. Too much open white space. The nagging feeling that I was chasing a gimmick pushed me to abandon the idea and focus on finishing something – any of the various things that I’ve started would be a good idea right about now. I wonder how many other people get sucked into a similar technology vortex, chasing something that doesn’t necessarily add to what they are trying to say.
I’d be delighted to hear what you have to say – add your voice to the conversation in the comments
Rolf Horn‘s work caught my eye when I was recently poking around on the Soulcatcher Studio website. I had been looking at the Paul Caponigro images that they have displayed there and decided to spend a few moments looking at the work of some of the other artists that they represent.
Rolf’s square black and white images, often long exposures, are reminiscent of the work of the other photographers that I enjoy – especially Michael Levin, David Fokos and of course Michael Kenna. I perhaps shouldn’t have been surprised, although I was, to find that Rolf had worked as Michael Kenna’s assistant for a while.
Like Kenna, Rolf uses medium format cameras (Hassleblad) and film for his work, producing silver gelatin prints. He is very much committed to this mode of photography, in fact if his comments regarding digital photography in this Black & White article when taken at face value are quite inflammatory – ‘thems fightin’ words’ as we would say where I grew up. In addition the Black & White magazine feature, Rolf’s photography has been featured in a number of other magazines. A full listing can be found here.
Rolf’s website is well worth exploring, there a large number of his completed bodies of work to dig into. What I find interesting is that some of the portfolios date back to the early 1990’s and so as you look through it’s interesting to track Rolf’s aesthetic evolution. His most recent work has a quiet energy that I particularly enjoy and I have to say it – his snow monkey picture (below) is one of my favorites to date.