Keeping up with our recent wave of behind-the-scenes articles, today let's journey through a realm slightly different from my usual focus. Over the weekend, I wrapped up a photoshoot that, while a departure from my typical subjects, reaffirmed a vital truth in the creative world: the 'game' remains the same across dimensions. As artists or creative professionals (however you want to define yourself), we possess the unique ability to transition seamlessly between genres, subjects, and even artistic realms without losing our voice—provided we truly know ourselves. We operate beyond conventional boundaries, right? So, let’s dive into this mystical transition and explore how fluid our creative identities can be, no matter the canvas before us.
Stepping beyond conventional boundaries, let’s delve into this weekend’s photoshoot—a canvas not limited to my usual diverse subjects but expanding into the realm of culinary compositions. This venture into photographing food for a client project wasn’t just about capturing dishes—which anyone with a camera can do; it was about reinterpreting them through an artistic lens that blends the familiar with the unknown.
In the world of food photography, as I see it in 2024, the prevalent style remains rooted in the conventional still-life aesthetic. Everything is meticulously staged and pristinely presented, emphasizing an item as a static piece. While there's merit in this precision, my preference leans towards a style that embodies a more organic, natural flow—a rhythm with its own energy.
Of course, it's one thing to talk big about such an approach in today's industry; it's quite another to effectively create and execute it in the tangible, three-dimensional world we inhabit, whether through photography or other media.
In this project, I challenged myself to break away from the well-trodden path. I viewed food not just as subjects to be captured but as dynamic, organic compositions, offering a fresh and more holistic approach. This perspective highlights the natural beauty and spontaneity of the food, treating each composition more like a scene in a narrative rather than an isolated object under scrutiny.
It’s important to note that my process doesn't start with a checklist of analytical steps. I don’t sit down and deliberate over each artistic decision before beginning a project. Instead, my approach is deeply rooted in intuition. Initially, everything is feeling-based—' this feels right, this doesn’t.' It's about exploring a flow that resonates on an emotional level, trusting the process to lead me where I need to go. This instinctual beginning is essential, as it allows everything to form organically, free from the constraints of overthinking.
As the project progresses and a foundation built on these feelings solidifies, that's when the analytical side gradually comes into play. It’s a reflective phase where I begin to understand why certain elements work better than others, and how they contribute to the overarching narrative I aim to convey. This interplay between intuition and analysis is crucial, shaping a final product that is not only visually compelling but also emotionally resonant.
Applying Intuition to Form and Flow
Reflecting on the completion of this project, I realize my focus was on emphasizing organic forms that mirror the spontaneity and fluidity of nature. During the conceptual phase, this inclination towards organic and fluid forms was not explicitly defined; rather, it emerged through non-verbal cues and deep, instinctive feelings as I navigated the creative process. This intuitive approach allowed each scene to unfold naturally, capturing every element in its truest form within the designed context.
So, that was a general overview of what transpired over the weekend. The entire project spanned about a week. Initially, I spent a few days sketching various compositions and ideas in my notebook, searching for that intuitive 'this is it' feeling that signals the right path forward. Once I finalized a sketch concept, the next step was bringing it to life.
I took a few days to source the right produce and gather other miscellaneous items needed for the shoot. For capturing these scenes, I chose Fuji Provia slide film and my 4x5 large format camera. The choice of equipment significantly influenced the logistics of the shoot, particularly because I insisted on using a specific focal length that required a considerable distance between the food canvas and the lens.
This setup meant I had to shoot from atop a ladder, leading to an amusing bout of sore hamstrings 😂 the following day from multiple climbs and balancing on one leg.
The day of the shoot itself took approximately seven hours. This included setting the lighting, designing the food compositions—which I did myself—and shooting, followed by teardown. While it’s common for professionals to hire a food stylist, I felt that personal involvement in styling was crucial, as I had already visualized and sketched the designs.
This hands-on approach ensured that every detail matched my artistic vision, allowing me to translate my sketches into the final photographic compositions seamlessly.
Overall, it was a fun and engaging week-long project. I didn’t want to tear down the composition because it looked so cool. The next step is getting the slide film developed, which always feels like a magical reveal of what was created. At some point in the near future, I'll upload one final image on the website. When you see it, you'll be able to appreciate how everything I've explained in this article comes together visually. Moreover, you’ll notice that, regardless of the niche, my work retains a distinctive style that is unmistakably mine. Each project is a reflection of individuality, highlighting how personal vision shapes our artistic output. This ethos resonates not only with fellow creatives who are finding their own voices but also with clients seeking individuality in their respective fields and ventures. The choices we make, however subtle, are outward expressions of our inner selves.
