Marc Steculorum: “Why I take pictures my way and no other…”
After our “People. Not Pages” interview, we are eager to go deeper into the artistic practice of some of our artists. Today we have a Close-Up with Marc Steculorum, a photographer and curator based in Antwerp, Belgium.
We talk about his “Whereabouts” photobook. Interviewed by Jaime Molina.
Few words from Max:
I have to say that I was impressed by this book twice at least: the first time when I saw the submissions and went to see the images. I realized that here’s something different from what we usually see here and was not sure if it properly fits our “format”. Is it an autobiography book, short essays, or diary notes I thought, not just a photobook? All in one.
“I try to explore the philosophy behind taking photos — why I take pictures my way and no other. — Marc Setculorum
The second time was when I’ve got a copy in my hands. After a few minutes flipping through the pages, stopping for a glimpse here and there I decided that I’d better spend some time with it reading it one spread at a time. It spent a couple of months with me in my work bag.
“It’s about the kind of photography that I love, and it’s the kind of book that I wanted to read when I was a student, trying to find my way.” — Marc Setculorum.
If you get a copy in your hands, make sure to spend enough time with it. Now let’s get to the interview between Jaime and Marc.
JM: Could you tell us more why you decided to make this book?
MS: It took some time to answer your questions.
My hesitation made me realize — not for the first time — that I am an image-maker and not a person of too many words. Finding the right words that enrich the images can be difficult, “explaining” my pictures is something I do rather reluctantly. I admit that words can give insight, but they should never get in the way of the images. In this, I am reminded of Gerhard Richter’s words, “My paintings are way more intelligent than I am”. Images can be clear and plain, yet at the same time have an ambiguous quality.
To translate that into words can be tricky and sometimes pretentious.
I would say that my general approach (as a photographer) is rather intuitive, without too much theorizing, or at least I try to forget the theories. Attempting to see things around me without too many preconceptions. My photos are not about themes that are so common and fashionable these days: identity, gender, migration, climate change, globalization, etc., etc. I take photos because I want to speak in images, not in arguments. This is what I wanted to clarify with “Whereabouts”.
So why have I made a photo-text book in which the words carry the same weight as the images? The “why did you do it” — the question is often the trickiest to answer. Obviously there can be many reasons why someone decides on doing something in a particular way. Let me try…
In the summer of 2017, when I started working on this project, I lived in Italy, somewhere in the countryside.
In April that year, my mother had died. My parents had always supported me in my choices to go to film and photo-school. They gave me the freedom to find my own way, which is probably the greatest gift parents can give to their children. My parents had no background in the arts, they probably had very little connection with the photographs I was making.
So that summer I was certainly in the mood to reflect on the past and on my position as a photographer (and person). Without a doubt that was one reason to make this particular book at that specific time.
But there were other reasons. A friend always called me an “underground-photographer”, working for a small audience, in a quiet way, far away from the maddening crowds of Paris Photo and the likes. Partly this was a consequence of my other activities in the past.
After graduating as a photographer at the Art Academy in Ghent, I made the decision to start a gallery specialized in photography. For almost 20 years I combined my work as a curator with my own photographic practice. We showed quality work in the best possible conditions, and we made more than 100 shows, sometimes introducing people like Nicholas Nixon, Jitka Hanzlova, Craigie Horsfield, Guido Guidi for the first time in Belgium. During all these years I continued making photographs, without showing them that much.
Consequently, people regarded me in the first place as a gallerist, not as a photographer. Countless times I had to answer the same question (even until now): “Do you still make photographs, Marc?”
To clarify this situation for once and for all I made the book. So that was another motivation.
The main reason however why I decided to write and edit “Whereabouts” was that I wanted to look at my work for the last 30 years and see how the different parts connected with each other. What had I tried to do, and where and when had I succeeded or failed?
The book would tell the story of how I got involved in photography, what attracted me to the medium in the first place, and what I had learned about it over the years. It is the kind of book that I wanted to read when I was a student, trying to find my own way. I always liked to read interviews with artists, as they spoke about their working methods, their ambitions, the thoughts underlying the work. From the start, I knew “Whereabouts” had to be that kind of book. There is no introductory essay by an art historian, and there are no intermediaries between the reader and the photographer. You only read the words of the photographer. It feels a bit like a workshop: not in the sense that I go over the rigid technical aspects of lenses or photoshop techniques, but instead because I try to explore the philosophy behind taking photos — why I make pictures this way and no other.
I call it a “where, when, and why book”.
JM: Do you think every photographer at some stage in their career should produce a book like yours? Or at least do the exercise of re-evaluating their photographic practice?
MS: I fully realize — and the book has not changed that — that I remain an underground-photographer.
(A reality that becomes even more obvious these days with social media indicating your “popularity” and status.) That, of course, does not mean that the things I am claiming in the book are insignificant and of no value for other people, young photographers or people in general who love photography and want to read about it. The book was not written as a form of self-therapy. If that was the case it would be a failure. Indeed, I say things about my own practice as a photographer, but at the same time, I show a broader perspective: what does it mean to be a photographer in a time when almost everybody is taking pictures, how to make photos that matter, and how to look at photographs and recognize their qualities.
I have no doubt that evaluating your own work from time to time, putting it in relation to what other people are doing, or what has been done in the past, can be inspiring and refreshing. And it is something that is part of being an artist. Also realizing that failure is part of the process of making art. Sometimes you touch gold, other times you fail. You have to be the first and best critic of your own work.
You often hear art students say they don’t want to know anything about the history of their medium because they want to stay “pure”, unblemished by influences of any kind. They assume that the new, the unseen, is the greatest goal and that they will lose it if they know too much about the history of their medium. I doubt that strongly. You have to understand that you are part of a tradition, that others who came before you did interesting things, worked in a way that can give inspiration upon which you can respond and continue to build. Somewhere in the book, I quote the Russian choreographer Balanchine, who said: “There are no new steps, only new combinations”.
JM: What was the most significant learning curve while making Whereabouts? Has it changed your views on your work?
MS: In a monograph about the work by Italian photographer Luigi Ghirri I read a short introduction text by William Eggleston. About Ghirri’s work he says (I paraphrase: “When looking at these photos you get the impression that they are not made by one photographer. I consider that a compliment.”
The work of many artists, also photographers, is often typified by a single artistic program that is started early on and further developed over the years. The work might divert a little bit from its central concept, but not too far. Often a reductive attitude concerning subject matter and style is maintained over a long period. I am not criticizing this approach: exploring one specific idea can potentially lead to greater concentration, more depth. Another consequence can be that the work becomes more easily identifiable, with a clear ‘signature’.
In contrast, I have turned my attention to a greater variety of subjects, at first sight not directly interrelated. Also stylistically there seems to be no one abiding principle. Though every series has its own look and character, the whole body of work is more diverse.
A mixture of approaches and photographic strategies that makes it perhaps more difficult to recognize as the work of one person.
It is this “quality” (or is it a defect?) that I wanted to investigate further by making “Whereabouts”. Indeed, I enjoy the challenge of occasionally changing my way of making pictures, as well as selecting unexpected subject matter. I try not to feel limited by rules and restrictions. But in the end, I can only hope — and I show that throughout the book — that a certain ‘tone’ sings through all the work, that there is a quality that unifies the different images.
JM: What is the most valuable piece of advice that has been given to you, and how you use it in your photographic practice?
MS: A few months ago I send a copy of “Whereabouts” to Robert Adams, a photographer who over the years has been important for me through his images, words, and moral stance. In a letter, he thanked me and wrote:
“Looking at your work I’m reminded that although the practice of photography often seems very individual and sometimes lonely, the truth is that we do form a community.”
Words of comfort, that put everything into perspective.
Believe in your work, do not make compromises.
Accept the fact that there is a chance that hardly anyone cares about what you’re doing, and don’t be discouraged by that reality. Be true to yourself. Somehow you have to find your own ‘voice’, your way of looking at things. It takes time, effort, and perseverance. Be modest, but at the same time, show ambition. Enjoy what you are doing.
