Interview with Tobias Slater-Hunt

Artist's Statement, December 2008-12-08
• Born in 1970 in the UK
• Graduated from Art College in 1992, with a degree in graphic design though having specialised in photography.
• Started an MA course in 2008.

The Big Gap
Spent many years suffering from ill health, chronic psoriasis akin the Singing Detective, and didn’t really pick a camera up again until the year of our foul lord 2005 as a response to the death of a hero, Hunter S. Thompson. I was in New Zealand at the time, journeying to Australia then the US. The Iconival project was born out of a lifelong obsession with myth and religion, perhaps the hangover from a bizarre catholic upbringing.

The original plan was to tip my hat to Bettina Rheims’ Chambre Close work, but instead of nude portraits of “ordinary” women in hotel rooms marked by a faded decadence I intended to make imaginary portraits of mythical women in similar hotels. Eve checking in, after her “beautiful fall” from grace, Salome making ready for her dance of seduction etc. However on the meagre budget I had, I found myself travelling a Rubicon of hotels with navy blue carpets and magnolia walls. Sterile environments that were more a testimony to cleanliness, than any aspiration to taste. It was not until I got to LA that I found myself changing tack, a luxury that was afforded me by the existence of Samy’s Camera on Venice beach. Samy’s is an Aladdin’s cave of photographic goodness, all for hire to those with the dollar to make the dreams happen. I’d spend hours skulking around isles dripping with kit, dreaming of the potential. Common sense did prevail, however. No Avedon 10 by 8 plate images, or affairs with the digital zeitgeist for me. Keep it simple. One flash light, one soft box, a very large piece of paper or two and a twin reflex rollei. Good enough for Penn, good enough for me.

The Present Day
And so the Iconival began, a car crash of carnival performers, mythic icons, religions symbolism and the aesthetic of the female form. The “male gaze” was ever present I suppose but I was working hard to elevate the images above this proto feminist mine field, to make the nudes about something more, indeed something “other” than desire, to make the female nude as sexless as possible, a cipher for dreams other than lust. The making of the “imaginary portraits” continue to this day, though the method of production has moved to the studio, the aesthetic has changed little, honing it little by little. However the Iconival has thrown up several questions about my working practise, the nature of the portrait and the sequential image.

I am currently working on two further projects to tackle these ideas as well as allowing an outlet for non iconival ideas and aesthetics. The first project has the working title, The Most beautiful Woman in Town, taken from the story of the same name by Charles Bukowski. The project is intended to explore the nature of the portrait as fully as possible, centred around images of my partner and muse, creating allegorical images of her many different facets; mother, artist, muse, sister, daughter, partner etc. The work plays with the notions of identity and affords me the opportunity to really experiment with other ways of making images. I am hoping to put this together as both a book and an exhibition, but really depends on whether or not galleries out there would be interested.

The second project has the working title Ascension, and furthers the idea of the portrait and identity by concentrating far more on an autobiographical aspect. Loosely based on Dante’s inferno, no, the catholic obsessions never really go away do they?, and will be a series of “one off” monumental images illustrating an ascent out of hell. Each image or cantos will be the basis for a chapter in a book of the same name. I have become increasingly interested in the different way in which photography can be consumed, from the monumental print behind glass on the gallery wall, “if you look into the abyss long enough the abyss will look into you” to the far more intimate nature of the book, the slow perusal and the turning of the page, more seductive than confrontational.

More of his work:

tobias37.deviantart.com

savagemonument.blogspot.com

Q: MihalyCsikszentmihalyi, who has studied and written extensively on the psychology of creativity, has observed that often people are actually more creative during the periods when they are not producing work. How do you think the “Big Gap” in your life relates to your creativity?

During my illness I began to keep sketch books of ideas. On the one hand, I needed to get them out of my head but I also found it frustrating, as I could see no way of taking the images further. The process of making the books was a method of keeping occupied; I hadn’t ever considered boredom being a side effect of long term illness. Although a painfully impotent creative process to go through at the time, I only now find myself going back through these books and harvesting the ideas. It took me a while of relatively good health to be able to face going back to them, old friends in dark places.

Q: What was it about Hunter S. Thompson's death that motivated you to start shooting again?

I had been a fan since college. His death coincided with my first bout of travelling. I had just started a new drug regime and was healthy enough to kind of take my gap year at the tender age of 35. It seems strange coincidence that his death and my health galvanised me into producing work for the first time in 15 years. We had indeed lost a warrior on that fateful day in February 05, and I felt a need to step up to the mark in some way.

Q: Thompson, Bukowski and Dante Alighieri all seem to figure in your sensibilities. These are all powerful literary figures. How do words figure in your work and process?

Literature has always had a great influence on photography, and parallels in the past have been drawn between the rise of the photographic medium and the rise of the modern novel. I was not consciously aware of these parallels, only knowing that words fire images in the imagination. It is very difficult not to generate an internal cinema-scape when reading the works of Dante, Blake and Ballard for example. I have always been drawn to such writers that deal with the more grandiose aspects of the human condition and this reflects in my work. I have never really been too interested in the rise of the banal in photography, preferring more theatrical themes and approaches. This doesn’t necessarily make my work popular or indeed contemporary.

Q: Interesting that you are working on a project that is autobiographical in nature, but that does not seem to involve self portraiture. Can you say more about how making images for the Ascension project relates to autobiography?

Well the Ascension project is in a very early stage at the moment. It does have an autobiographical bent, but how that will manifest itself is still unclear to me. Predominantly it will be represented by the narrative, although the needs of the project keep pulling on me to get in front of the camera in some form. I take this as a good sign, that even in this early stage the project is beginning to dictate to me what has to be done, as if finding a life of its own as it were. The thought of producing any kind of an image based on a self portrait terrifies me, but sometimes you just have to ride the strange torpedo!

Q: Its practically cliché to say that less is more. Was there anything more than budgetary constraints and common sense that had you overcome your camera lust in the aisles of Samy's, and decide to go with such a simple lighting and camera set-up?

The aesthetic of the Iconival work was pretty much defined by practicalities. The original idea was to create images more akin to Bettina Rheims’ Chambre Close, or even nod towards the work of Gregory Crewdson. However the constraints of the budget hotels I was staying while travelling across America determined a more Irving Penn approach. The simplicity of the approach allows me to focus on the minutia of the composition, styling, and light while creating a visual arena in which these “characters” seem to be allowed to breathe in. There was also the issue of confidence; it had been over a decade since I had picked up a camera, so keeping things simple was a way of overcoming my terrible fear of failure. I am sure all artists/photographers suffer such fears, but they do seem to become more acute when you work in collaboration with someone else, one somehow feels a greater sense of responsibility to get it right.

Q: With the "Iconival" project, do you think you've been successful at making the images sexless?

I would certainly say it was the aim. There are obviously a lot of ideological implications tied up with portraying the nude female form. I have attempted to elevate the images above such discussion by focusing on the aesthetic as well as the concepts behind the shots. I do not consider the images erotic in any way and it was not the aim of the work. But once the images are in the public forum I obviously have little control over the reaction they engender.

Q: How do your studies in graphic design relate to your photographic approach, and what sort of MA are you studying for?

I am currently studying for an MA in photography. My degree was in graphic design, but with a two year specialisation in photography, under Gem Southam. The graphic design aspect only informs my practise when it comes to designing portfolios and books. The illustrative disciplines I learnt I still employ today as part of my practise but these drawings are rarely seen as I am yet to find a way of ratifying them with the photographic images I produce. But drawing still fuels the process by which I make photographs.

Q: You seem to be interested in constructing images at the atomic level, working with the very essence of what makes an image work. Can you say a little about aesthetics, the sequential image and the nature of the portrait from your perspective?

I like the idea of my images being constructed on an atomic level, and the description does suit my methodology. The images always start with a kernel of an idea and are developed through drawings. The studio practise reflects this as i start with a blank canvas or frame and construct the images piece by piece. However I don’t consider my images as portraits, in a traditional sense, in the sense of Avedon’s “borrowed dogs”.

The photographs are not about the depiction of the people in front of the camera, any attempt to capture their personality or essence. The models character is of little relevance to me, silent effigies to play a role, a cypher for a peculiar vision.
This is not too under-mine their role in the production of the images, or their collaborative input, but the images are not about them as people but as constructed characters, aesthetic symbols.

Q: "Ascension" is a project based in monumental images. What dimensions are we talking about, and are there other aspects of the physical presentation that make them monumental? What does working in that scale do to the creative process, and what does it do to the viewer?

Well by monumental I mean images of about 6 foot by 8 foot. Some even larger. There are also ideas kicking around concerning the production of a couple of installation pieces, one involving an 8 foot mirrored obelisk. But again it is all very early stages, but the intent is to make work that is of a scale that it looks into the viewer..” if you stare into the abyss long enough it will stare into you”. I am also producing a book to complement the monumental aspect of the project, and it is this dichotomy i am very much interested in. The different aspects of viewing large scale works on a wall, in comparison to the intimate and personal feeling of turning the pages of a book.

Q: You also seem to have a keen awareness of art history and the history of photography. How does that affect the way you work?

Well with my new studies there is obviously a great affect of the current conceptual thinking in contemporary photography. It can be quite stagnating at times. The more I learn, the more I feel paralysed when thinking of my own work. How will it exist in these contexts, etc? I find myself questioning so much of what I do in the face of these arguments. However this is not necessarily a bad thing, it is good to challenge your own work at times, and I am beginning to develop a more responsible relationship with it. It is always good to be introduced to the work of artists and photographers I had not previously been aware of, Jeff Wall being quite a guiding light at the moment.

Q: When you work on a shoot, how much direction do you give to your models, and how much do you involve them in the concepts behind your project.

All depends on the models really; they all bring something individual to a shoot. I always cast models for the concepts I am trying to develop. It helps when models understand what I am trying to achieve and my work certainly seems to attract a certain type of model, less mainstream, who seem to embrace my particular madness. I do take control of most of the direction during a shoot, the pose, look and mood. I always have a very clear vision of what I am aiming for, often drawn beforehand to further demonstrate the requirements to the model. More recently I have embarked on long term collaboration with a model, JustynaNeryng, whose self portrait work I became fascinated with a couple of years ago. We are working on a book project called “The Most Beautiful Woman in Town” after the short story by Charles Bukowski. Such a long term collaboration has unexpected advantages of developing trust and Justyna is developing my work into more emotive portraiture, rather than confining the work to only nudes, and bring a new dimension to the nudes we do shoot.

Notes on the Iconival
“The Iconival is a travel circus in the Rabelais tradition. Its performers are icons from myth and culture, engaged in acts both sublime and ridiculous in an attempt to subvert perception and confound belief. The Iconival broke through the looking glass in February 2005 to mark the passing of the greatest ring master of all, Hunter S. Thompson. It was time to ride the strange torpedo. I followed the Iconival from New Zealand, through Australia, to America and finally to Britain, photographing the performers “off stage left” in a Rubicon of budget hotels, armed with a trusty Rollei. This is but the first of many forays into the bizarre world of the performers and their acts, in an attempt to gain their trust and some insight. The Iconival never stops moving and I hear the Medway calling.”
Iconival prologue. 2006