There's so much debate around the minimalism of things and many of them co-exist - minimalism can certainly be a way to live more meaningfully, even ethically, but it also co-opts and makes it a choice to adopt a way of living that is forced upon others, and its media-prominent ideal of a serene, brightly lit space is one that can only be afforded by the few and privileged. You can only throw away the 'unnecessary' - and, even moreso, invest in the best quality items - when, in a pinch, you retain the power to buy freely, as the need arises.
But that's not what this post is about - more musings about minimalism in my actual article for Fitzroy, which I am excited to be part of because we are in desperate need of more 'bridging' publications in this tough world of aspiring creatives.
This post is about the minimalism of action. My taste in editorial photography has always veered towards the elaborate so, somewhere along the line, editorial shoots became challenges of logistics: finding collaborators, booking in locations, sourcing props, figuring out last-minute scheduling conflicts. I had also avoided studio lighting, partly because I had largely associated with tired, oversaturated and over-contrasted affairs and/or harshly lit Terry Richardson models posed awkwardly for maximum male gaze (let's just say....not a fan). Then I assisted backstage on a shoot that essentially simulated an afternoon golden hour sunset using a bunch of diffusers in the corner of a studio. Mind blown.
This shoot was therefore both a significant exploration of new technique and a huge 'back to basics' lesson. Just Lily, Rachel and myself, sans HMUA trappings or accessories. Two small lights, Allie's clothes and a handful of props we found around the studio, including a chair I flipped upside down.
A study in minimalism and inspired by love aesthetics, one of my longtime loves. Probably some of my favourite work to date ( :