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Soledad | Kevin Provost

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I was looking at the photos I had taken and this quote from Mexico’s acclaimed poet Octavio Paz came to mind:

“To live is to be separated from what we were in order to approach what we are going to be in the mysterious future. Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone, and the only one who seeks out another."

I freelance as a TV camera operator. I had worked on a number of food and travel shows, and in 2015 I joined the crew of the PBS “Pati’s Mexican Table.” Every year we would travel to a new region of Mexico and spend a few weeks exploring the area. As was often the case, while on these work trips I was carrying around my Ricoh GR1, a small point and shoot 35mm film camera.

I started using point and shoots on my trips because I knew I couldn't pass up the chance at documenting my travels in some way, but when you're carrying a television camera around all day, and all your thoughts are about shooting, the last thing you want to do is repeat the same process the moment you put the other camera down. I realized if I was using a point and shoot, there was no technical thinking on my part, I could just grab a shot and not have to go into my work mindset. It’s probably the most instinctual process I’ve ever done as a photographer. I see a moment and capture it. No thinking. Not worrying about menus, what lens I have on, if the battery needs to be charged, and since I have a limited supply of film, I’m usually just taking one picture and I can’t check to see if I liked it immediately. It’s a real pure way to capture a moment and only be thinking about the moment itself.

I especially loved doing this in Mexico, where things are so vibrant and beautiful while being weathered and used. I love the juxtaposing aesthetic that I seem to find there. I had no grand plan with the photos, they were merely things that caught my eye and I was so busy with work there, I never had much time to think about what kind of images I was collecting.

It wasn’t until the boredom of the pandemic lockdown that I actually looked at the images with some thought. I had over five years worth of trips to Mexico and as I looked at them all as a whole, I couldn’t believe how much they felt in tune with each other. Perhaps it was the state of the lockdown, or the perspective of a foreigner in a new land, or something I unconsciously seek out, but I noticed all the images had an inherent loneliness to them. Quiet scenes of a place or short moments with someone alone, they had a solitude to them. I thought of the poem I referenced before and the whole thing screamed “book” to me.

I had never self-published anything before, but the idea of sharing these moments in this new context got me really excited. The process of finding a publisher that could give me a good quality book while keeping the cost at a minimum took a long time, but after months of test books I finally found someone I was happy with. Two hundred books off the presses and here we are! I’m so excited for people to see these images and enjoy the quiet journey each page turn gives.

Photos made with a Ricoh GR1 and Kodak Portra 400.

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See more of film photographer Kevin Provost’s work on his website - where you can also snap up a copy of his book! Connect with him on his Instagram, too.

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Haystack Heroes | Tommaso Carrara

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Since I started making photographs, a little over 2 years ago, I have always followed my instincts and shot whatever I liked to. Whether that was a nice landscape, a street scene, or a nice building, I did not worry too much about what my message was. And probably I still don’ t, as I honestly have no idea what my real intention is behind this side of the glass. The only thing I know is that I enjoy doing it, and I feel like I am creating something unique, which somehow has my own stamp on it.

Surely, I like the vibe of the street more than anything else, but at the same time I had the opportunity to appreciate the tranquillity of a park too. Despite being constantly inspired by the surroundings, I am yet to have started a photographic project. Or I should say, I was yet to have started a photographic project as of August 2021.

As a Londoner based amateur photographer who generally focuses on the urban life, I have recently started to appreciate the remoteness and tranquility some places can provide. This quickly reflected into my very first post-pandemic holiday too: Orkney and Shetland.

My girlfriend and I carefully organised a trip to visit the Northern Isles of Scotland a couple months prior to departure. With all booked and organised, we also left a little to the destiny. Surely not the photographic gear though! I carefully packed the following: Hasselblad 503CXi + 80mm Carl Zeiss Planar CF T*, Minolta Digital Spotmeter F, Peak Design Travel Tripod, Cable release and lots of 120 Kodak Portra 400.

The first leg of the trip was spent in Orkney, and amongst the many beautiful islands that comprise this beautiful archipelago, Westray is certainly one of the smallest. Fun fact: it is also home of the world's shortest flight to Papa Westray, a journey that lasts 90 seconds.

Minutes after disembarking from the ferry from Lerwick, we stumbled upon a scarecrow like I have never seen before. So carefully dressed up and shockingly seemingly human, I could not help but pulling over the car and photograph this work of art. And one other one, just round the corner, 20 meters ahead. Again, I could not help it, I had to make another photo. On the way to the Airbnb room, we stumbled upon another three, all different between each other but so very well-finished. I basically spent the rest of the day and the following one making sure I would not miss any of them, and carefully looking around like if it was a treasure hunt. Yes, I became a little obsessed too, I must admit.

For more of these images, check out the zine: link at the bottom of this article.

Little did I know the scarecrows had been created by families across the island with the aim to raise money for the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. The RNLI is the charity that saves lives at sea. Powered primarily by kind donations, their search and rescue service has been saving lives for nearly 200 years.

It quickly became my very first photographic project: a collection of the sixteen haystack scarecrows I crossed my path with while traveling all over the island of Westray.

Zine of this project

This is to say that, sometimes, ideas for a photographic project come up out of nowhere. You do not necessarily have to have an idea on your mind ahead of time, and this is probably why I was so invested: it all started by chance, and this is, for me, the beauty of it.

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Film photographer Tommaso Carrara is based in London. See more of his work on his website, and connect with him on Instagram. Also, be sure to check out his new zine on this project!

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A PLACE TO BE | TIM HEUBECK

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My name is Tim Heubeck and I am a photographer based in Germany. I run a website and Instagram channel; all under the name of wasteoffilm. Photography, for me, is less about what the things we are familiar with look like and more about everything that lays under the surface; everything we cannot express and fail to see in our daily life. Working on long-term projects and focusing on black and white film photography has enabled me to bring back the physicality of art, and revealing the only true way of showing a photograph: through print. Since 2015 I have exclusively focused on self-publishing books. To date, six publications have resulted; spanning work from nearly a decade of constant observing and photographing.

In this article, the aim is to share more insights into the thought-process of creating my latest and sixth project “A Place To Be”. This is one that took me years to produce and is the result of many sleepless nights, both while creating the work and producing the final book. Without further ado, let’s jump into this article.

A Place To Be - A Journey To Solitude

There seems to be a time in everyone’s life when one just needs to be with oneself. For me, this time came shortly before I turned twenty and the years following. The need to escape from reality, at least for a while, grew stronger and stronger until it had conjured up to a point, where I finally needed to head away from home; completely alone. Japan promised to be as far away from everything I have grown accustomed to. It seemed like the ideal escape.

Upon first setting foot in Japan, I had this strange sensation of having arrived in some different kind of world. A world where no-one knew me; a world where I could be whoever I wanted to be; ultimately, a world where I could fill my days with whatever came to mind. Setting out every single day with my camera in hand, I decided to wander around with no clear goal or direction in mind, with the aim of capturing everything I happened to see or be interested in.

The first days felt like a rush; pressing the shutter of my camera in what seemed like every minute of the day. There was so much to take in, so many different things happening at the same time. It seemed like I was the only one noticing those things; the only one amidst millions of other people surrounding me on the busy streets of Japan’s metropolitan areas. After spending quite some time in Tokyo, I began to embark on a train-journey down to, among others, Yokohama, Nagoya, Nara, Kyoto, Osaka, and Kobe. In Nagoya, joined by a family-friend, we drove around Japan’s countryside, visiting many of the more remote towns and shrines. The days began to blur, the weeks began to pass and I had to return home. But I was sure this would not be my last escape to Japan. It was, in fact, the beginning of a deep love for a place.

A few months after this first trip, I booked a flight to Tokyo again. I just felt like I needed to. And this is when it clicked inside my mind: This is the place I can run to when everything feels like it is getting too much; when I need to discover a new truth, one so far from everything I knew to this day. Finding solitude was the purpose of these journeys.

The starting point for all of these journeys was always Tokyo, from where I made my way through numerous of Japan’s prefectures and islands. Over the years, the train has taken me to various larger and smaller cities of Japan; mostly traveling south of Tokyo. Finding myself in Nagano, Toyama, and Ishikawa prefecture as well as on Kyushu island - where not many western people make their way - I was far removed from everything I was familiar with. It was exactly during these times, when I got so caught up in just being, that I nearly forgot that this was not my regular life, and that there will come a day when I need to return back home.

Once in a lifetime, I feel, everyone needs to go on his / her own journey to solitude in order to filter out all of the noise that usually surrounds us. This quest will certainly be hard, especially getting used to be surrounded by only yourself throughout most of the time. Nevertheless, once you are beyond a certain point, where your thoughts, fears, and everything you have been holding back during all of those years finally begin to surface, you will begin to realize the reason and importance of such endeavors. Maybe this break from the mundane life is necessary once in a while, to be reminded who you are and what it really is you want from life. Maybe our modern-day life just does not allow us to discover this truth anymore. Maybe we have lost a part of ourselves by making us somewhat numb to our true inside.

Over the course of my travels to Japan, I have met many strangers, seen many intriguing places, shot hundreds of rolls of film, and traveled many thousand miles through the country. Ultimately, these journeys have enabled me to be the person I am today, by realizing who it is I am. After developing and viewing all of the photographs taken throughout my travels to Japan, it feels like they were taken by someone else, in a different lifetime. I do not seem to be able to remember many of these moments. Some days, I began to doubt that it was even me who took these photographs in the first place.

My sixth publication “a place to be” ties these journeys together; it is a document of what I saw, or maybe what I wanted to see during this time of my life. Putting this body of work together, I realized that it was a necessary closure. This period of my life is ultimately over. Still, I know for sure: There will come a time when I will feel the urge to escape again. And Japan will be this place for me to go to; my place to be.

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A Place To Be - Tim Heubeck | Self-published, January 2020, 130 photographs on 188 pages You can find more information about and contents from the book here. Copies of the book are directly available through Tim’s website. Connect with him and see more of his work on his Instagram.