BY SHALEEN DESTEFANO
We’ve been intrigued by the hauntingly beautiful images of Michael Ash Smith for years. Here he breaks down a bit of the mystery behind his work, by sharing the inspiration for his series and thoughtfully detailed process. Needless to say, our love for his aesthetic has grown.
Can you tell us about your journey as a photographer and more specifically, your very distinct aesthetic?
In my early 20s I had a standard 9-5 so my weekends were free. I would set out early Saturday and just drive around for hours photographing anything interesting and intriguing, it was a hobby, something I enjoyed immensely. I considered pursuing photography as a career but I balked. I grew up in a stereotypical suburban environment and creativity and art weren’t “real” so I didn’t have a foundation in place to encourage me to pursue anything outside of a “safe” job. Years went by, I still dabbled, film photography was expensive so it went on the back-burner. When my daughter was born, I purchased a digital camera allowing me to experiment, test, and hone my skills without having to spend much. With a bare bones setup, I started going out again on my own. Randomly, I photographed a small wedding and about a year later I quit my job against the advice of many people, and started a photography business. Photography has taken me around the world, challenged me, humbled me, and is still one of the most important aspects of my life. I’ll never not be a photographer. Weddings provided me a career but I was more attracted to a niche side of photography. Using older style film cameras opened up how I saw the world of photography and allowed me to make the photographs I saw in my head. The next large step in my career happened between 2017-2019 when my personal life started to fall apart and I needed a creative outlet to keep me stable mentally. I turned to personal photography and started experimenting with more odd films and cameras attempting to visualize everything I was feeling. This led me to the style I have today and a big reason I chose to use a veil (and other fabrics) in my current work. It represents the thin layer between what we openly show to others and what we choose to keep hidden. It allows anonymity of the person under the veil. In very few photographs of mine can you see an actual face or person. That anonymity is extremely important and the veil is that protection. We all hide personal characteristics and traits, and I like to think my photography bridges the gap between people.
Much of your work depends on context. Anxiety, depression, suicide and balance are all themes that you explore. Once the viewer becomes aware of this, it changes how they see your art. Can you tell us more about the relationship of this context with your work?
I’ve been dealing with anxiety my entire life; I was just young in a time where it wasn’t documented or talked about much. If you did mention it, you were discounted and told to “man up.” That’s a phrase I’ve heard far too often. Anxiety wasn’t understood or discussed, I just kept it all in. It came out in other ways such as music and photography. I’ve always had a fear and intrigue of death. It frightens me, but it’s also very alluring. Both of these fascinations are the driving force behind the photos I create. For some it’s easy to talk openly about but for many, it’s not. Knowing another person is dealing with the same issues is important. They connect to that but might be too shy to publicly state their understanding, privately they are able to do so. I often get messages of solidarity, and that alone makes what I create worth it. I’m not trying to appeal to the masses, I’m trying to appeal to those wanderers who don’t have it all figured out, would never say they do, and most likely never will. Like myself.
Your work consists of using unique analog cameras and films to express internal emotion and vision. Why is this medium important to you? How does it relate to your vision of a world driven by digital?
The original draw to analog was grainy black and white photographs. I couldn’t recreate it digitally. After a few years of being purely digital, I purchased an old film camera. Using that camera forced me to slow down and have more intent. Once I changed my approach, I became more aware of my surroundings and light and composition. I wanted more drama in my photographs, something to set me apart from the pack. I’ve always wanted to be a painter and photography was my way of obtaining that look. Over time it evolved and I started exploring land cameras and more unique film. Once I found pack film (peel apart Polaroid) I had the medium I desired and stuck with that the most. I still use those films mainly, even though it’s gotten extremely expensive because they’re no longer made. Even though it can get fairly expensive, there’s so much more reward for me. I enjoy the challenges, and failures, and the journey to get to a final photograph. Quite often I’ll leave a session and have no idea if anything will turn out, and often nothing meets the quality I expect of myself. But even then, I feel more comfortable and more myself than if using digital technology.
Can you share with us your process and how you arrive at a finished piece of work?
First, I think of a basic direction for my series. Then, I begin looking for someone to collaborate with. While I have used the same person for more than one series, generally I prefer working with someone unique. I try to find someone that I feel would work best with the idea in mind. I mainly work in a series format, so I need to be able to build a relationship with them. If we both feel comfortable with each other, we’re rewarded with better imagery. Often, the first session is a “throw away” because it’s our first time working together and we don’t have a clear vision. We schedule sessions as much as needed and I’m developing film and testing ideas along the way. Timing all depends on weather, light, film, schedules, and honing in on the objective. I plan for a final session to make sure I’ve exhausted all ideas and after that I just know. By the end, we’ve built up a sizable library to sift through and fine tune. Those are the photos that make the final series and in some cases are printed. It’s a lot of work and a lot of time but it feels best for me to work like this, like a painter would for an oil painting. It takes stopping and starting again, or completely starting over, and sometimes even nixing the entire series before it’s done.
You’ve said that you find inspiration in music, poetry and painting. How do the different mediums interact with your work?
All three have a fairly equal role in my work and I’m constantly inspired by each of them. I read a lot of poetry and philosophy and I’m always saving quotes and excerpts to use as inspiration for photos or even an idea for a new series. I’ve always wanted to be a painter and my photos often reflect that. A little blurry (not overly sharp), more abstract, good use of negative space, etc. Music only adds to my style. For example, a series I created a few years ago titled ‘Fluidity’ was created around one ambient music album. I had it playing every time we had a session and by the end of the series, you could truly see how the photographs coincide with the album.
Would you be open to collaborating with other artists?
Yes! I realized the importance of collaboration a few years ago with my first major series release. Without a model, nearly all of my work wouldn’t exist. Therefore, they play a vital role in my photography. I’m always seeking a willing human to work with. I find that creating a relationship with them has a large impact on the final photographs. If we’re both invested and happy and on the same page, it’s extremely beneficial to the creation process. Additionally, I would love to collaborate with like-minded artists! Painters, photographers, sculptors, etc. I’m always eager to learn more and see if we can create something meaningful together.
Michael, thank you for your art, your voice and your vision. If you’d like to learn more, visit michaelashsmith.com.