✦ Refrakt: 25 — Conversation
I stumbled upon Johanna Renoth’s work while looking for artists working in a similar space to me: across photography and writing, and interested in exploring things beyond the surface-level. Through her newsletter Seeing., she writes about photography, art, travel, fashion—and plenty of other intersections from her examined life. I suggested the idea of sharing some images and words and seeing where it goes, and Johanna was gracious enough to agree.
Johanna’s thoughtful responses and lovely images really resonated with me. It’s wonderful to be able to chat with another artist; I find I always learn something new. Johanna shared a perspective that felt in tune with mine, and I’m so excited to be able to share our collaboration with all of you now. Read on for our photographs, and the conversation that came from them.
A camera is a great excuse to look for beauty in even the smallest, most mundane moments. I like that photography can be meditative like that. It’s a tool to practice an appreciation for life.
IB:
I’ve recently moved from the United States to Tokyo, Japan seeking a new adventure, so it feels apt to open this with an image—perhaps my favorite so far—captured since moving here. One of the things I noticed first was the quality of light in Tokyo is simply different from what I was used to finding in Chicago. Most of my photography is street photography, but since moving, I’ve been capturing a lot more of these sorts of snapshots.
I moved in March, which is just before sakura (cherry blossom) season, allowing me a full view of the beauty and fleeting nature of these trees. I’ve always been fascinated by flowering trees, but getting to experience the full range of sakura was very special.
This is a sakura tree I pass each day on my walk to work, which sits in a tight alley between buildings, nestled among a parking garage and lot. It seems like a strange place for a tree—only barely visible from the street, but somehow it makes perfect sense in Tokyo.
Each day, I’d pass this tree, watching it get closer to full-bloom, but it wasn’t until after it had already crested over the peak (hence the petals on the asphalt) that I decided to head into the alley and see it up close.
I still walk past this tree every day, though it’s only through the bark that I know the beauty that it contains.
JR:
Great light is everything, isn’t it? One of my favorite things about traveling is to notice how the light is different in every place you visit. The light in your shot is so beautiful, soft and clear at the same time.
Moving to a new place heightens your senses, especially with a cultural difference as big as between the US and Japan. It sounds like quite the adventure! At the same time, there’s always room for the mundane everywhere. Even in the most novel of places, everyday activities eventually kick in.
Your photo made me yearn for the quotidian beauty of a commute. I’ve been working from home and remotely for a decade now. And while I cherish many parts of it, other things like discovering beautiful trees on the way to work get lost in that somewhat. A commute can be grating. Yet, it can also offer a lot of exposure to our humanity. It’s in those small, everyday moments that we build a life.
When I saw your photo and read your story, it reminded me of a picture I captured in the humdrum of life recently: light and shadow on my bathroom wall. It’s not a commute. Similarly to your image, it captures the beauty in a fixture of my everyday life, though.
To me, this is the allure of photography. A camera is a great excuse to look for beauty in even the smallest, most mundane moments. I like that photography can be meditative like that. It’s a tool to practice an appreciation for life.
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IB:
Oh wow, what a beautiful image. I love the mix of hard and soft light, hard and soft texture; almost seems like I can reach out and touch this image. The composition, too, is fascinating; getting the tip of the triangle in frame here—and I want to know what’s around the corner!
Yes, I completely agree about your point on looking for beauty in the mundane. I always think of my practice as an attempt to capture beautiful light, but in our everyday lives. I think daily life is so much richer, funnier, and more beautiful than we give it credit for. People often ask why I’m chuckling about something on the street, but it’s impossible to explain: just some fleeting moment, something touching or absurd or above all, human.
This image reminds me of one I made many years ago. This is the Chicago Riverwalk, a stretch lining the river that runs through the center of the city that’s packed from the first hint of Summer until the leaves fall from the trees. I would regularly walk through different areas of the city, looking for these sorts of moments to capture.
Here, I found an intimate moment shared on the steps that line this section of the path. It feels like a moment from this couple’s living room, but it’s in one of the busiest sections of the city. I’ve always loved the pattern the shadows draw, the soft curves that cut against the sharp angles of the steps, the dark contrast with just the trace outlines of the others present.
This is what I love about street photography. I feel it’s taught me a sensitivity towards my environment, those around me, that I otherwise might’ve failed to develop. I love being able to see and appreciate moments like this, and hope it invites others to look closer at the world around them, too.
JR:
There’s something so tender in witnessing the love of other people. It’s truly heartwarming–and a wonderful photo of yours! I appreciate when somebody captures everyday situations as gracefully and naturally as you did above. Getting that perfect, spontaneous shot is such an art!
I’ve been thinking about what note to end our conversation on. When I was digging through my archive for a response, I found this shot I had taken in Santo Domingo almost 10 years ago. At the time, I lived on the penultimate floor of an apartment building there. I could see the Caribbean from my balcony and had a bird’s eye view of my neighborhood. It was lovely!
Back then, I was particularly taken by this backyard and the gloriously lush mango trees in it. You couldn’t invent all those different shades of green, if you had to. Peeking into somebody’s home is not physical intimacy like in your photo above. Still, there’s an element of it present in this shot, as we zoom in on another person’s living space.
I also wanted to tie this back to how we started our conversation. Living somewhere else heightens your perception for everything around you. When everything is new, you have the sharpest view on life. Everything is exciting–people, houses, plants! In that vein, the cherry blossoms in your and the mango tree in my photo connect. We both got to experience viewing the world with heightened senses as we explored our new surroundings–each tree being a symbol of that.
The real task in life is bringing that sense of perception to our everyday lives.
Thank you for joining me in this conversation in photos, Ian!
IB:
Likewise, thanks so much for agreeing to give this a go with me!
Lovely photo to end it on. Sounds like an ideal apartment; in your situation, I might do nothing besides look out the window. The depth in plants really is amazing—very excited to see your new series!
What you said about living somewhere new heightening your perception really resonates with me. Beyond just being somewhere new, I think art is about perspective: honing and sharing that with others. Photography is especially close to this, I think, as the work itself consists of this (rather than simply informing it, like painting or music, perhaps).
It’s been wonderful exploring a different type of photography in Tokyo than only what I was photographing in Chicago (though that street photography work has continued as well). Looking at my archives over time, and thinking about the new diverse influences I’ve started to take in, it’s fascinating to see how that perspective has shifted over time. I wonder if you feel this even more strongly, having lived even more places than I.