The practice of easing chaos
For many people, photography is a way to show the beauty of the surroundings.
Not for me.
Looking at it globally, I don’t consider this world to be an exceptionally beautiful place. In fact, my view of life and the reality is infected with a deep conviction that the world I know is cruel, full of chaos and evil. Wars, famine, poverty and hatred, that I see everywhere, make it difficult for me to believe that it’s any different.
This has a huge impact on my artistic practice, including photography.
And yet, I sometimes hear that my photos are beautiful (which is very nice to hear and I take it as a compliment).
But the truth is that nowadays, photography is simply my way of relatively coping with the chaos around me.
I cannot stand chaos and disorder either in the everyday life, nor in visual arts.
Probably that’s why my compositions are relatively orderly, deliberate, minimalist, and clean.
The places I consciously choose for photography are those where I regain my rest and peace. Most often the coast, wind-torn flags, beach clubs back doors, wooden beach huts in the early morning. Or quiet side streets in a small town. Or, for example, my home.
I don’t look for frills to beautify the reality. I don’t choose places that, taken out of context (think beautiful sunsets, flowers, that kind of stuff), might suggest that we live in some kind of paradise on Earth. Because we don’t.
Capturing such fragments of reality would feel like faking it.
The glorification of perfect images is I guess a results of poisoning by the social media virus. Stunning landscapes from the spots everyone saw so many times, styled street photography with shallow depth of field or polished portraits (by the way, the least interesting genre of photography on Instagram) - this is what clicks, what’s popular and seems right to do when you first pick the camera and have no clue yet what to do with it.
These above are the reasons that for the sake of my photographic practice, I had to redefine my concept of beauty.
Beauty, for me, is where I find peace and order - not where beautiful light illuminates attractive people, items, or architecture.
That’s probably also why at certain point I turned away from photographing beautiful places, people, and things, and moved toward ordinary situations - mundane, overlooked scenes. Often nostalgic, old and weathered places, but beautiful in their own (or rather MY own) way.
At some point, I felt the need to record those moments and places where harmony triumphs over chaos. This is where I get my hope back.
Around the same time, I moved away from photographing from unusual perspectives (for example, from a drone or from the water), in favor of photographing at eye level, using focal lengths that are closest to the human eye.
To capture the reality as a passerby, a quiet observer, from the side.
I created a guide (well, a mini-course is a better word), which will help you make more compelling, clean pictures.
It includes a little bit of theory, example images and practical tips/exercises.
Do you want to start making minimalistic, clean images that stand out? That guide is for you. And yes, it’s FREE.
