There are a couple questions I get asked a lot when I talk to people about what I do, and as a result I end up thinking about those things a lot, but almost never have a clear and complete answer on the spot. So, I decided to answer those questions in written form, as well as some other questions I gathered from family, and I have put the result in this blog post.
Those unfamiliar with the basics of photography or any other terminology I use here might find an explanation at this hopefully handy glossary page.
Q: Why film? Shouldn’t you be using fancy, expensive digital cameras and lenses that produce laser sharp images in any light condition at a fraction of the time?
A: No. Film is cumbersome, yes, but the process, limitations, and slowness of it give me the space to actually think about my work and be creative with the form. I find the relative freedom of digital photography suffocating; having problems solved for me with a zoom lens and modern sensor technology removes the troubleshooting that so often is the source of new ideas for me. If I can get a frame that is really close to what was in my head just like that, I do not end up having to find a different, more interesting approach to the image. I do not mean to say that digital photography is bad, or even worse than analog in some way, all I am trying to illustrate is that analog and digital photography, are, in my view, kind of two separate mediums—much in the same way that watercolor and acrylic are both a form of painting, but certainly are not the same thing. The hyper-accuracy of digital photography is ill-suited to my work. The warmth and fuzziness of film is something I readily welcome. I do not want to pretend that I am portraying some kind of literal truth so often conflated with photography; instead, I’d like to show that I am looking for a subjective one.
Q: How do you plan your photographs? When do you decide to shoot?
A: I often don’t! I do my best to always have a camera with me and often create my images based around my daily life. However, I’ve been realizing more lately that planning a shoot (which I have done many times, it is just something I have fallen out of practice with a little bit) can be invigorating, and because most of what I do involves other people, having the commitment and external pressure of having a plan with someone helps me not flake.
When I do plan photographs, it is usually based off of sketched or jotted down ideas that I have accrued over time. Usually these will already have a mood to them that dictates what time of day they need to be shot at, and therefore what my lighting will be; I almost always use available light, so these things go hand in hand, along with the location for the image. It’s all in service to the feeling I’d like to convey.
I think my favorite times to shoot are when I look or step outside and the environment just feels RIGHT, and I grab a camera and possibly a friend and go out and take some pictures. I have shot entire projects like this.
Q: Shouldn’t you try to focus on one medium in an attempt to gain mastery?
A: Maybe! Unfortunately, I suspect that some kind of “master” is not who I am. I can get very restless, and sometimes I find myself deep in a rut, and the only way to get out is to try something I fundamentally don’t understand. 6 years ago I was only doing sculpture, and within a couple years I would subvert this entirely for photography, with my passion for sculpture almost completely snuffed out. I don’t know if this is good, only that it seems to be how I function.
Q: Do your mediums influence one another?
A: Yeah! Heck, I never would have stuck with photography had I not started pairing it with my writing. I first started seriously taking photos when I was 16 and I honestly got really sick of it within a couple years. I didn’t come back to photography until I was 20 and needed a summer credit at college, so I took Darkroom I because it seemed like the least shitty way to spend my summer. At the time, I did not want to take this class. When I did, though, I found that I really enjoyed the process of analog photography, and I made friends, and I had fun. For my midterm, I decided to turn my photos into a kids’ book-style story because I was unhappy with how the pictures turned out, and I thought it could add depth, or at least make the project more fun. Doing this really elevated it for me: it went from something I was enjoying to something I was truly having fun with, and for the first time I felt like I was properly expressing myself through the medium. I made the jump to pairing photography with poetry in the fall and found it to be incredibly fertile ground for my own growth as a person and for my art.
To dig more into this question, though: yes, there is interplay between my mediums. One of my most recent books started out as a sculptural project that I shredded through ideas on until it was a photography project. My writing sometimes shapes my photography, and my photography sometimes shapes my writing. I would say, though, that often when these things come together it is retrospective; I find myself working on photography and writing at the same time and the pairings find each other—although sometimes they will both be made with a general theme in mind.
I was going to say that my writing has yet to influence my sculpture, but I’m not so sure that’s true… I have had a couple sculptures that were basically punchlines and, to me, are less interesting without their titles.
Q: Why the book format? How do you figure out what is “book work” and what is not? How do you figure out how to structure your books?
A: I started compiling my work into books because of the intimate nature of the art I was making at the time. It felt weird to display the work on a wall for critique, especially when I was pairing poems with specific images or image spreads and wanted people to be focused on that grouping at that moment without glossing over anything.
I kind of have two approaches to making my work. One has me looking at the writing and photography I’ve generated in a period of time and piecing together themes and common threads. The other has me set out with a particular project idea and work from there. Usually this comes in the form of a visual metaphor or symbol or something that I want to anchor a set of images, and in those cases I will have formal photoshoots and stuff. Often the writing, if there is any, just sort of comes with the territory of doing work and thinking about stuff and living life. The visual ideas relate to writing I was working on, or vice versa, and I just build off of these things until I see or feel a certain arc (not necessarily narrative, just a rise and fall) in the work that, hopefully, feels complete. I think that the way I do this is influenced by how musicians structure their albums. Ultimately, what becomes book work and what does not is about how tightly pieces fit together, and whether I feel like they have an intimacy that I’d like my audience to make a physical connection with by physically holding the images, or if I feel like they should be viewed from farther away.
Q: What photography equipment do you use? Why use multiple cameras?
A: Over the years I’ve acquired and used quite a few film cameras, many through gifts and thrift store finds, and a handful through eBay. Some of my favorites are:
Olympus OM2n (w/ 50mm 1.4, 135mm f/4.5 macro lens with extension tube)—this was the first film camera I owned. It just feels good to use, both because of my intense familiarity with it and, I think, a certain level of nostalgia. I love the two lenses I have for it for their quirks, as well as the incredibly thin depth of field that can be achieved with both. The bokeh on the 50mm is the most beautiful I have ever seen—other lenses may be sharper, have more micro-contrast, whatever, but there is no beating the CREAMINESS of the bokeh on that 50mm, as far as I am concerned. I just ordered a portrait lens for my OM system and am excited to play with it.
Nikon Nikonos V (w/ kit lens)—this is an incredibly intuitive diving camera that is very fun to use, and is my most recent acquisition. I love taking pictures in the water, and it’s nice to have a camera that I can take out in the rain without too much concern—I took my OM2n out into the rain once and worried about it for days, lol. Also, I would say this camera is as capable as any SLR. It is easy to feel like you know what you’re doing while using it, even though you can’t directly see focus or the exact frame.
Konica C35 EF—I love this little guy. Mine is virtually broken, and has been since I first got it; all of the electronics are non-functional, which means that I cannot do much of anything about the exposure, save for that I know it fires on one shutter speed mechanically and that I can close the aperture down to a stop unknown to me if I leave the ASA set to its fastest setting.
Canon Canonet QL17 GIII—there’s a lot of hype surrounding this camera, but it’s well deserved. Taking pictures with this camera just feels RIGHT, and, as far as I am concerned, it is as accessible and intuitive as a rangefinder could be. This might be my favorite camera to take around with me on a day-to-day basis—and the light meter in mine doesn’t even work! Though, if I’m being honest here, I think part of the fun of this camera for me is spitballing exposure and hoping it comes out right. Also, I got this camera for only $25, which is an incredible deal for what it is.
Impossible I-1—unfortunately, mine is totally busted, and they were all somewhat poorly manufactured, but this is still my favorite polaroid camera that I’ve used. I loved playing with long exposures with this thing, and almost all of my favorite polaroid images that I have taken were taken with this camera. I always got the most wonderful sense of exploration using this thing.
I shoot multiple cameras because they satisfy different needs—some abstract, some physical. I have my Minolta TC-1 for when I need something portable but still exacting. I have my Nikonos for conditions where other cameras might not survive. Ultimately, though, I have a lot of cameras because I am a nerd, and they fascinate me. I genuinely think having so many options can be a hindrance and that there are times in which it would be better if I just focused on a couple. I have been working on this.
I realize now that I got excited and talked about cameras I like instead of general equipment, so here’s my “kit”:
Whatever camera I want to use
A tripod if I’m taking self portraits or shooting photographs in low light
Self-timer (almost always built in) or remote shutter if I am taking self portraits or shooting photographs in low light
A polarizer if water’s involved and I have serious intention about it; this allows me to adjust how intensely reflected light from the water hits my camera, I guess—I can make it so that the water is visibly clear, or a hard reflective wall
My phone! If I need an external light meter, this is it. I am on the lookout for a 1 degree spot meter, though
Ryan Collins and/or Fiona Christie
Q: How do you choose your sculptural materials?
Honestly? I often start with an idea and then look at what’s available and what makes sense. It’s generally obvious to me if a piece should be sculpted in a traditional sense or if it should be an assemblage, and when it’s the latter I tend to take in inspiration from what’s around me.
Q: What inspires you to write?
A: Necessity. I am horrible, just genuinely terrible, at processing my feelings and thoughts on my own. It makes me bad at communication with the people in my life, which ultimately makes me unhappy. Writing poetry forces me to do this. When I am writing with consistency—at least a few lines a day, throughout the day—I find myself more thoughtful about my life, more communicative, and just more okay. It is a therapeutic practice as much as it is an artistic one.
Q: What are some of your outside inspirations?
A: Music, my life, the people around me. Some artists who inspire me are Phil Elverum, Joanna Newsom, Ansel Adams, Lucas Samaras, Vivian Maier, Ren Hang, Hayao Miyazaki, Federico Fellini. I am heavily inspired by cinema, but perhaps less the art itself and more the technique and intensive approach that people take to making film. Some of my favorite movies are 8 1/2, Spirited Away, and It’s Such A Beautiful Day. I have read very little formal poetry, and draw most of my poetic inspiration from the music I have listened to. I really like Vampire Weekend.
Q: How do you balance inspiration within your own work?
A: I think it really comes down to honesty. No artist has lived your life, and no artist will communicate exactly what you could communicate. I think that if you are being open with yourself while you are doing your work, it just will not come out the same as your inspirations, no matter what your north star is and how closely you follow it. Furthermore, when I take inspiration into my work, I usually do it to try to recreate a feeling a piece of art helps bring out of me, not to recreate the work itself. Earlier I listed Ansel Adams as an inspiration, but I rarely do landscapes, and when I do they are very different from what he did. This is because the inspiration comes from how he filled his frames, and otherwise I am just trying to create a sort of proxy of my experience. When I actually set out to do landscapes as part of my art, the goal has been to use the environment to be expressive, rather than to capture natural beauty—though I have done plenty of this simply because it was in front of me, and not because I intended to be taking landscape photographs. Those are for memory’s sake.
Q: How do you deal with artist’s block?
A: I tend to absolutely LANGUISH in it, but: looking at old work and polishing it helps. Sharing my work and talking about it with other people helps. If I’ve really been hitting my head against the wall on something, I’ve found that it’s sometimes good to just take a step back and let it go for a couple weeks, so that I can come back to it with fresh eyes. I also think it helps to try new things, especially mediums or processes. But really, sometimes you just need to give yourself a well-defined break. Live your life, absorb and think about new art, cut out consuming distractions like endlessly scrolling social media. Also, sometimes you just need to actually take stock of the work you have and how it fits together. It can be easy to lose sight of what you have for what you are struggling to create.
