Landscape Photographer Magazine - On Sonnets

Interview with Dimitri Vasileiou (published in May 2013)

Q. Hi Alex. My very first question is, when did you start photography?

I started making images at quite a young age, thanks to the encouragement of my father who let me use his 35mm camera to record everyday family life, and on the various trips we used to make to the Scottish highlands.

I eventually started carrying a camera with me everywhere, and it was whilst photographing the windswept beaches of my little west of Scotland town that it became clear that I was becoming passionate about making images. This, and access to a school darkroom led me to develop my first roll of film, and like many people seeing that first print appear in the tray had me convinced that this is what I wanted to do with my life. Slowly I started to build up a body of work which was mainly composed of landscapes, portraits and shooting gigs, and this led me to putting on my first slightly eclectic exhibition ‘Tide Reflects Sky’ in 2006.

Q. What is your favourite image of all time?

There are some images which keep me coming back to them again and again, they hold a sense of mystery, or secrets which are slowly revealed only through repeated viewings. An image which definitely fits this criteria is Thomas Annan’s ‘The Dark Mountains’, shot on the top of Ben Vorlich in 1890. I’m so enamored with this image that I visited the place it was taken on New Year’s Day to try and learn more about what Annan went through to create it. It was described by one critic at the time as conveying “Dantesque dreams, ideas of massive, awful grandeur, unknown threatening dangers.” – it’s an image which has been, and continues to be very influential on my own practice.

Q. Although you were born in Celle in Germany and later moved to Scotland, you seem to love and promote Scotland all around the world. Can we have the story behind the scenes please?

While I was born in Germany, and German was my first language, I’ve lived the majority of my life with my Scottish father in Scotland, so consider this to be my home. While I wouldn’t consider myself a nationalist in any respect, I am proud to call many of the people who live here friends, and feel a great connection to the land and culture of this country. However as a result of moving around so much in my childhood I have always felt like somewhat of an outsider, and this has often led me to question ideas of national dentity, and in particular the ways in which the Scottish people define themselves both internally and externally. This is what the Sonnets series was born from, an introspective meditation on Scottish culture, history and identity as we move towards the Independence Referendum in 2014

Q. My research showed up this: A sonnet is a form of a poem that originated in Europe, mainy Italy. Now, if this is correct and your project matches the answer to my research and is based on it, then my question is, why Sonnets and how did you come up with the idea?

I think it’s important that photographers have interests which exist outside the world of photography. I often draw more inspiration from good films, books, music and poetry than I do from looking at images, and the Sonnets series is no different. The name of the series is drawn from one of my favourite collections of poetry, the National poet Edwin Morgan’s ‘Sonnets from Scotland’, which was published in the year of my birth, 1984.

I later worked with Edwin Morgan on the series, but in the beginning I draw influence from not only the wide-ranging locations mentioned in the text, from the island of Hoy in the Orkney Islands to the mountain of Schiehallion and its mythical associations, but also the way in which that form of poem, the Sonnet, is constructed. A sonnet has two clearly defined structural elements, the octave and the sestet, with the interplay of these creating an overall strength and recognisable form. The Sonnets series works in much the same way, with the fixed elements being the landscape vista, and the figure of Henning who inhabits each frame.

Q. The mysterious figure of ‘Henning’ in the pictures, can you shed some light on this?

Henning is a very close friend and confidant of mine. It seemed only natural that we worked together, having known each other for the best part of two decades. We have a dynamic which allows us to work in a way that I could probably never achieve with a model, and his support has been key to the success of the series. In Sonnets he fulfills various roles, from providing a sense of scale, to drawing the viewer into the scene. The usage of figures in large landscapes is of course not a new one, and Henning is a conscious acknowledgement of the solitary men and women who inhabited the paintings of Caspar David Friedrich and other such romantic painters.

As well as being a silent observer, there is also something slightly absurd about Henning’s placement within the landscape; it is surreal and otherworldly – a definite nod to the work of Rodney Smith and Magritte.

In regards to his dress it is intentionally timeless, and is not assigned to any time period in particular, which I hope gives the series a sense of ambiguity. It allows the viewer to construct their own meanings and narrative as to why he is in the scene.

The look however is drawn largely from that of German artist Anselm Kiefer who wore a similar outfit in his Besetzungen (occupations) series, which sought to undermine nationalistic urges. I make a nod to this in Henning’s choice of footwear; a pair of sturdy, but far from waterproof, jackboots.

Q. For some people photography is a hobby, for others a passion. Somehow, it seems like it always has to be a challenge for you. If I am correct in my thinking, can you explain why it always has to be a challenge?

If I’m going to produce a new body of work I need to do something which keeps me interested, and the only way of doing that is to react against not only my previous work, but also the work of my contemporaries. Sonnets was a clear exercise in me playing devil’s advocate, re-appropriating and parodying the traditional, safe, roadside landscape photography approach. My current work is as far away from Sonnets as you can imagine. I’m now actively out in the land, working in more remote areas, and currently recovering from various back injuries sustained whilst out in the hills.

I acknowledge that my approach is probably not the healthiest way to make images, nor is it the wisest, however the underlying motivation to get out there and do it is something I don’t question. It’s a compulsion I can’t quite explain.

Q. What gear did you use for this project?

Sonnets was a project which evolved over time, with the equipment changing throughout the years to accommodate and reflect my changing interests and approaches. In the beginning the series was shot on a selection of Nikon camera bodies, a D200 if I recall correctly. As I became more confident however I moved onto medium format film, using a Mamiya 645 pro, and a trusty Hasselblad 500c when the weather was too cold for others cameras to operate. There are also images made using a Canon 5D MK II, a variety of test shots made on a Leica III, a Lubitel, and even some polaroid shots. If I was to start the project again I probably would have shot it entirely on medium format film – probably using the Fuji FW690III or on a 4x5 camera.

Q. No doubt your work evokes strong emotional responses. To what degree are your own emotions reflected in the subject?

For the Sonnets series I tried to remain as objective and emotionally detached as possible when shooting. When I arrive at a location I already have a certain idea of what I want in mind, thanks to research and pre-visualising the image. Often however I have to react to the situation, and go with instinct and set up a shot in a way which feels and looks right through the viewfinder. Henning, who unlike myself is religious, has a much different experience when he takes his position for each image. He views the Sonnets series as religious in character, as quiet meditations of his place within God’s universe, however this was not my intent, but I appreciate that this is his interpretation of the series.

Q. Most photographers have a moment where everything becomes clear and that moment could change the way we see photography. Have you had such a moment and how did it affect your style?

I’m not sure I’ve had a particular moment where I’ve been struck by lightning. It’s been a slow series of revelations. I remember getting my hands on a copy of Lilliput Magazine from 1946 and seeing Bill Brandt’s landscape work. That made me realise that we don’t always have to capture everything as it is, but how we experience it. That had a defining effect on my practice.

Q. Besides the recognition that followed the Sonnets, were there any commercial and financial gains?

The series appeals to many different audiences, from curators and dealers through to people who might not normally engage with conceptual photography. I think much of this has to do with the fact that on the surface the images have a kitsch playful element which doesn’t require a deep level of engagement, while to another audience the underlying motivations and stories give it a more satisfying depth.

Images from Sonnets have subsequently appeared on album covers, books, advertising posters, and of course as prints which I sell through an agent and a gallery in London.

I’ve been lucky that Sonnets has given me the financial freedom to explore and expand my practice, however as a project it’s finished, as I no longer enjoy doing it, and felt it came to a natural end with the death of Edwin Morgan in 2010. The last image in the series ‘Loch Rannoch’ was actually made on the day of his funeral as a tribute.

I’ve subsequently had several photographers and galleries tell me that I must be mad for not continuing to work on Sonnets, given the financial implications, however the thought of endlessly repeating myself sounds fairly unappealing for me, never mind for my audience.

Q. For the Sonnets series, what did you look for in a location?

The locations in Sonnets are all consciously chosen to reflect a number of concerns I’d had for some time. In the beginning it was places which had been somewhat done to death by other landscape photographers.

I only need to think of Glencoe, Glen Etive, Rannoch Moor and the various lone trees which used to have photographers queuing to set up their tripods in the holes of those who came before them to take the same unimaginative shots. This always struck me as deeply ironic, as Rannoch Moor is one of the most unforgiving landscapes in the UK, yet somehow it had been rendered safe by the ways in which it was depicted.

I realised that landscape photography in Scotland had become reductive, and included a great deal of repetition. The same generally easy to get to roadside locations appeared time and time again, as photographers worked in an endless circle generated by the work of their peers and magazines which gave how-to guides to these places.

I found it all very unsatisfying and decided to seek out many of these places for myself, play with that existing imagery, and to try and create some of the most kitsch imagery I could imagine. As the project developed I expanded out from these locations to places which had been instrumental in the creation of Scottish identity, such as the site of the Glencoe Massacre, to where Bonnie Prince Charlie raised his standard on the banks of Loch Shiel, an action which led to the disastrous Battle of Culloden the following year.

More contemporary sites with darker histories where also chosen such as Gruinard Island (where Anthrax was tested in WW2), and the site where the trawler the George Robb went ashore in the far North East of Scotland, killing 13 men. This information however was all held from the viewer in exhibitions, and probably was only of significance to a few who recognised the names of places like Lochan na Fola (the Little Loch of Blood).

Towards the end of Sonnets, I was increasingly travelling to harder to get to locations such as Cape Wrath, and the Old Many of Hoy In the Orkney Islands, many of which require hiking for several hours to get to. I found these the most satisfying places to work, and realised that it was probably time to bring the project to an end, as my interests and ambition was clearly changing.

Q. You seem to be doing photography on a full time basis, can you explain the challenges of this, if any?

I’m currently the Royal Scottish Academy’s Artist in Residence at Sabhal Mor Ostaig, acollege on the Isle of Skye in the North West of Scotland. This position allows me to develop a new body of work, and to base myself in the Highlands, giving me easy access to the Outer Hebrides which I can see from my studio window. As idyllic as all this sounds, this is a fairly new development in my life, as until last year I had to work in a succession of other full-time jobs to support my interest in making my own photography.

If I haven’t been directly taking pictures to make my living, I’ve tried my best to support myself and my wife from working with them. I’ve had several jobs working as a photographic archivist, as a researcher in a picture library, and my last role which saw me lead a project to document a Nationally Recognised collection of archaeological artifacts as a Museum Officer in the South of Scotland. I think the sad reality is that very few can survive working full time as artists and photographers, and those who do make great sacrifices in order to make work. This is especially true in Scotland where there is no great commercial appetite for photography, and no real gallery market with which to speak of.

Q. Where have you exhibited the project? Any plans for future exhibitions?

Sonnets has been exhibited widely, predominantly across Europe, however it has also appeared in galleries in the US and the Chris Beetles Gallery in Mayfair, London which represents much of the work. In the last five years I concentrated on showing the series across Scotland to gauge the audience reaction, and to see if people responded to some of the themes present in the images. One of the highlights of showing the work here was to have a solo exhibit at The Scottish Parliament, where my work was congratulated in a Parliamentary motion, and another exhibition in 2009 when I showed alongside one of my photographic heroes, Thomas Joshua Cooper, at the Lillie Gallery in Glasgow.

Outside of the UK one of my proudest achievements was to display my work on a truly monumental scale in Bucharest in Romania. With images some 84 metres high, to have Sonnets projected on the Palace of the Parliament, Europe’s largest building, was something I will not soon forget.

I’m currently preparing the Sonnets series for further exhibitions in the US and London. I’ll be announcing dates and galleries on my site in due course.

Q. Do you have any talks/presentations scheduled for 2013?

I’ve given a series of lectures recently about my work across Scotland, with a recent event at the Edinburgh Photographic Society and another at Street level Photoworks in Glasgow, as well as a selection of talks during a recent five week visit to the US. I’m about to start my residency where I will be giving various workshops and talks, and in the autumn I’ll be speaking at the Royal Scottish Academy in Edinburgh as well as at various colleges and Universities during the summer. It’s best to check my website, but I very much enjoy giving talks, and try to do them as often as my schedule allows. I have an informal lecturing style that encourages debate with the audience – something which hopefully keeps everyone engaged, and allows me to take something away with me.

Q. Tell us about your favourite and most inspiring location in Scotland.

The one which comes to mind is Duncansby Head in the far North East of Scotland. This location is known for its impressive triangular sea stacks, which rise abruptly from the sea and tower menacingly over the vertical cliffs of the shore. I had seen many images of this location over the years, all taken from the headland looking down to the sea below. I am however naturally very curious, and wondered if it was possible to take an image from the base of the cliffs looking up, or even better from inside one of the many sea-caves which directly face the sea stacks.

When Henning and I arrived on site we managed to find a way down to the shore below, and began the arduous process of clambering along the thin ledge between the cliffs and the roaring sea to Thirle’s door cave. After some effort we made it, admired the absolutely incredible view of the stacks from sea level, took our shots, and realised that the tide had begun to rise inside the cave blocking off our exit. Remaining calm, we managed to get out and made our way back to safety with some quite unique images.

Q. Like almost every photographer, you must have a favourite image. Tell us a little bit about it, all the details and especially the why?

One location that I’d always wanted to shoot was Loch Maree which sits at the base of the mountain of Slioch, an impressive peak which dominates its nearby surroundings. In 2010 I was in the area working on the Sonnets project and decided to take the chance and set up a shot on Maree’s shore.

Due to a serious of unfortunate events I didn’t arrive at the site until almost mid-day, and while the view along the loch was clear and the mountain perfectly visible, the midday sun was punishingly bright. These conditions were not ideal for the type of shot I had in mind, and with only a limited time window available I had to react quickly.

I decided that to counteract the brightness I would try and create a stark image which would make use of the strong contrasts available, and throw every Neutral Density filter I had in front of the lens shooting at the smallest aperture I had available. The resultant image has a quality which makes it different to the others in the series, but is one which

I’m happy with as it moved me closer to an aesthetic that I had been trying to achieve for many years.

Q. What post processing do your images undergo? Can you give us some details of your basic workflow?

This has changed quite considerably over the years. I think because I was taught how to make images using film, and was aware that each frame would cost me so much to develop, I was invested in getting things right the first time, so that I wouldn’t have to do much work once the images where scanned. With digital I’ve followed the same approach,and am much slower and methodical thanks to my grounding in film. For post-processing for the Sonnets series I use Photoshop and Silver FX, however I’m held back by my very basic understanding of Photoshop and its capabilities. This is something I really need to rectify. For anything particularly complicated I often have the images worked on by my printer, or a friend in New York who has been a professional re-toucher for 30 years or so.

Q. Everyone has certain photographers that are of some sort of influence and inspiration. Who are these photographers for you?

I have a variety of photographic influences, such as Bill Brandt, whose stark, abstract and dramatic landscapes of Skye first drew me to the island many years ago, and have led directly to me becoming the islands current artist in residence. Fay Godwin is another obvious choice, as her work in the Scottish highlands in particular revealed many of the hidden stories of the land, while the work of Chris Friel continues to both push and challenge me, as does that of welsh photographer and poet Rob Hudson. Another current favourite is the work of Chris McCaw whose eerie sun scorched negatives leave me fascinated and make me question the nature of what a landscape is.

The person who has probably been most influential on my practice is the photographer, adventurer and explorer Thomas Joshua Cooper whose work has continued to push both the physical, mental and creative limits of what constitutes an artist. When I spent two months in a remote corner of Ireland last year, I took a selection of his books such as the phenomenal Dreaming the Gokstadt and The Point of No Return with me. When I started to doubt the validity of what I was doing, or the back-breaking nature of the work, I found great encouragement in his images and journeys.

Q. Have you gone through any formal training in photography or are you a self taught photographer?

Other than my early experiences in the dark-room at 15 or 16, I’ve never formerly been trained as a photographer. I have been lucky to have apprenticed and learned from a great deal of talented artists and photographers, and seen first-hand the reality of making work and surviving financially in what is a very competitive field.

My photographic education however comes very much from the other side of the field, with my under-graduate and post-graduate degrees both dealing with the History of Art and Photography, taking a very critical approach to the way in which work is made, disseminated and understood. In some ways this has been a help as much as a hindrance, as it helps give me a drive and focus, however it can also cause me to over-analyse what I’m doing which sometimes can stop me from making images.

Q. Your love for photography, passion or obsession?

I think it started as a passion and has very much grown into an obsession. A big part of my work is pre-visualisation. I often dream about the work I’m going to make sometimes months before I even get to the location – that’s when I know it has taken over my life!

Q. Did you ever have an awe inspiring experience that will stay with you for the rest of your photographic life?

There have been many moments where I’ve been walking alone or with Henning in the highlands and islands and have come across a site, a view, or a sunset which has reminded me of why I enjoy getting out into the land. Walking along the thousand foot high cliffs of St Johns Head on the Island of Hoy, or standing alone on the edge of Loch Coruisk in Skye, or being the only person on Ireland’s remote and oppressive Horse Island when a violent Atlantic storm hit land have all been humbling moments. I have been lucky that my photographic journey has so far been filled with such memories.

The American author Kurt Vonnegut, of whom I’m very fond, was once given a piece of advice which I often have to remind myself - “I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.’” It’s something I often repeat to myself during such experiences.

Q. We all have a dream location that we love to visit before we are too old, what is your dream location?

My brother Mark, who is in many ways an adventurer and explorer, is currently cycling some 5000km across Central America, currently 700km from his finishing line of Rio in Brazil. En-route he has been sending me pictures of his journey, many of them little tributes to Sonnets, with one image in particular being of great interest to me. For years I’ve been fascinated with the Salar de Uyuni, a massive 4000sq mile salt flat in Bolivia which was formed from the remains of pre-historic lakes. Occasional islands, the peaks of several long dead volcanoes break the surface, giving it a distinctly otherworldly feel. The intensity of the whites, the deep blue of the skies, as well as the sheer emptiness ofthe place fascinate me, and I’d love to explore it first-hand. It is a landscape on such a scale that it is almost frightening, with the distant horizon and mountains no doubt helping to accentuate that feeling.

Q. If you could turn back time, what advice would you give to a younger you about photography?

Try to be humble, take constructive criticism on board, but follow on your own path. Try to understand that some rules really are made to be broken, and that by imposing them on yourself you limit your own creativity.

Q. If you had to choose a different genre in photography besides landscapes, what would you choose?

I don’t really consider myself a genre photographer; I think that type of endless categorisation is one of the biggest problems with contemporary photography. I shoot what I love or what interests me, and that can be anything from landscapes to portraits to making abstract collages which represent nothing other than playing with the format.

Q. How do you see the future of photography?

I think we are in a transitional phase. There is now more than ever, a certain amount of democracy in photography, with many of the old guard start to feel disenfranchised as they see the craft element of the medium being eroded in favour of digital newcomers, phone cameras and image manipulation via apps. I think that these developments are perfectly healthy and natural, and welcome more people making images on their phones, or as easily as possible without having to move 4x5 cameras or endless gear around.

In the end I feel it’s the image which is the most important element, especially if you are trying to communicate something to a viewer, or trying to externalise something you feel. The approach has always been the least important thing, at least to me anyway, and that is one of the problems I foresee with the sudden surge in alternative-process photography.

It’s more discussing about how images are made, than the images themselves. It’s a certain camera-club level of mentality which stops people from achieving their true potential with photography, however for many is a means to an end. I think in ten years or so we will perhaps have the clarity to focus on the important element again – the image, the print, or the digital projection. Perhaps these too will become less meaningful as photography becomes more sensory, and more about total emersion and experience.

Q. How do you see your photographic future?

I want to move into curating more photographic exhibitions, and helping to establish a stronger photographic community in Scotland. The aim of helping to establish a Scottish National Photographic Centre, as outlined in James Robertson’s novel The Land Lay Still is also one I’d like to help realise. Currently however I’m working hard on the Isle of Skye to create a new body of work for exhibition at the National Galleries of Scotland in the Autumn – it combines my digital, film and wet-plate collodion work, and is so far the most ambitious project I’ve embarked on.

Q. Is there a specific question you wish I had asked you?

Who is your favourite artist? What book inspired you? What music do you listen to when you work? The last of these is an important part of the process for me, and many other photographers. The non-visual element of making images is crucial. When I see images by Werner Kissling for example I think of him listening and gaining endless inspiration from Mahler as he photographed his way around the Eriskay and the Western Isles in the 1930s – it was as important to him as the landscapes he worked in.

Q. What advice would you give to our readers?

I’m not really one for giving advice, but I would say that sometimes it’s ok to stop and not take images. This allows you to think about what you are trying to achieve, and that focus will help you to create stronger work. Most of all don’t be too hard on yourself, try to enjoy what you are doing, remain humble, and open to knowledge from the hard fought experience of others.