If I had to provide a name for my infantile photography style, it would have to be unnatural realism.
‘Realism’ in the sense that I find myself growing intolerant of hyper-edited shots that look nothing at all like the world. Â Over-highlighted, over (or under) exposed and saturated, shadows removed, etc. Â All to just make it more ‘exciting’. Â I find myself gravitating to the normal, the mundane, the ‘boring’. Â I try to capture the wonder of the everyday that we so often skip over so quickly because of our… wait, myÂ busy schedule.
And ‘unnatural’, because I think all photography, like all art, is a startlingly unnatural thing, in the sense that nature doesn’t care what it looks like. Â Nature doesn’t say “ooh, this will make a good shot, get this angle…” Â To mash C.S. Lewis and Richard Dawkins into one assessment, Nature is a blind, pitiless, indifferent and dumb witch. Â Imagine (if you dare) every single angle and distance/zoom combination you could take of a given object in the world. Â Now imagine every object in the world – the ones that get attention (i.e. Auckland Skytower), and the ones that don’t (i.e. a simple blade of grass by your sidewalk). Â Take it into movies/film. Â How boring would a 100 minutes of raw footage from a still camera in my back yard be? Â The point? Â We cannot overstate how selectiveÂ we are in what we choose to record, and how we choose to the post-process it. Â Insanely unnatural.
Anyway, those are some thoughts that have been rattling around my brain whilst I carry my camera around.