If you were asked to remember specific details from a day in your life, what day would that be? Do you think you would be able to recollect every single nuance? Every smell, every taste, every sound?
Last summer as part of my job I was tasked to organise an event: Architectural Photography Review Day. Organising events, although very exhausting and time-consuming, still can definitely be one of the fun aspects of my job at times that allows me to explore different sides of architecture and learn more about it from the professionals in the industry. This time it was also a huge opportunity to push my photography to a different level.
When you think of architectural photography, the first things that comes to mind is, well, photography of architecture. Images of buildings and constructions that turn architecture into a still 2D art form. Now whether architectural photography is art or not is up for debate, there is an idea that such photography is simply one of the ways we communicate with architecture and perceive it. But it is definitely a very niche style in photography.
In preparation for the event, however, I learnt, that architectural photography as much as architectural cinematography (on which I will hopefully write more in a different post) is not necessarily just about depiction of buildings, it’s about the space in which we exist and with which we interact, the structure and composition, the stories the exteriors, and interiors tell (or should tell in good architecture, photography or film).
Now why this four passage long backstory? The Architectural Photography Review Day is an annual event, and each year the experts, who then discuss the projects with the audience and give their feedback, come up with themes or prompts for a small photography project. This time the topic was inspired by Christopher Nolan’s film ‘Memento’ (2000), where the main character suffered from an illness that resulted in a short-term memory and made it impossible for him to remember the events of the previous day. To survive and fulfil his mission, he left notes and photographs of objects, people, buildings and landscapes for himself in order to remember. Although in less dramatic and traumatic circumstances, the task was to tell the story of our day today to our future tomorrow self.
The rules of the PhotoReview were very simple: the project must tell a story through just images, and the photography must be architectural. If the first rule was relatively easy to achieve in a way, the second part was very confusing in the beginning. What does that even mean? I think, if you asked me today to give you an exact definition of ‘architectural photography’, I still wouldn’t be able to give you one. I described a brief idea, but it is definitely something that you learn to see in each frame the more you do photography.
Luckily for me, anyone could participate, even the employees. So after pondering for a couple of days, I decided to give it a go and try my skills and my creativity through something I have never done before — a conceptualised photography project. I still didn’t know how I would depict the ‘architecture’ side of the challenge, but I thought: “If I don’t like the results, I’ll just end up not sending in the project, no big deal. At least I have a reason to have fun with the camera”.
The idea of what I want to shoot came very quickly. Every year me and my friend, most of whom I’ve known for 10 years now (that number still shocks me), hold a farewell party for summer in the countryside – each year it’s a different theme, different decorations, different fun activities, but always the same group of people enjoying the company of each other, catching up and having a good time together. In 5 years since we’ve started this tradition never have we ever skipped one summer, each year outperforming the last one. Sometimes we think that maybe we are going a bit overboard with all the preparations, but then we remember how fun it is each time and then end up doing even more for our next gathering. This time the theme was ‘Gipsy Wedding’ since one of my friends was 1/4 gipsy and trying to make a very subtle hint for her boyfriend :)
We woke up early on a Saturday morning — the same day in the evening the guests were to arrive, so we had only several hours to prepare everything. After having a quick breakfast, we started working on the backyard, where most of the party would be. We picked all the apples that had fallen from the trees that have been there for generations now, so the guests wouldn’t accidentally trip on them. Some of the ones that weren’t too rotten we sorted out and put in a basket to add to the entourage. We hung some tule fabric on the trees to create an atmospheric sheltered sitting area, almost like a semi-open tent with colourful and patterned pillows and a very typically Soviet old rug on the ground.
While we were preparing that area, I really loved how the fabric flowed in the soft summer wind. I felt the urge to capture it. Capture it in a way that it would feel alive and breathing even through the picture. I think I managed it, but you would be able to give a more objective opinion on that. Nevertheless, I think those two shots definitely sparked the inspiration in me — suddenly I understood, what ‘architecture’ I wanted to visualise through this project. It was the mixture of structure and chaos that are fundamental to our lives and to architecture. Architecture is a very strict and lasting form of art. But without the chaos of art, the structure of science would have no meaning. It would be just that — a structure. Architecture requires both soul and mind.
We continued to decorate the outside area of my friend’s countryside house, creating our own “art” objects using all sorts of retro attributes we could find — most being old Soviet objects that have been in our families for decades: and old radio “Маяк” (Mayak), a 1960’s "ЛОМО” (LOMO) film camera, a CD and karaoke system (that still worked and was used at our party to play 2000’s rock music later that night), colourful kitchen towels that probably every family, who lived in the Soviet Union or in a post-soviet country, owned at some point, including mine.
The pinnacle of our creativity was definitely the small “art installation” we made, using a ladder, old suitcases, a compass, soviet books and postcards and a small bouquet of daisies we picked in the field the same morning. Next to it we arranged another sitting area, with a hand-made rocking-chair and a ladder, decorated with dried flowers.
It was fun creating all those things together, even more fun — running around with a camera and capturing all that, capturing the story, not only of that day we had together, but also everything that made it what it was.
Now, when I look back at these photographs, they bring me back to the exact moment I took them. I remember the conversations, the laughter, the food, the music. I remember the emotions I felt that day. In a way, this experience of creating such a project reminded me of the days where we used to print out photos and keep photo albums, that we later look through, when we feel nostalgic. With the age of social media I feel like we don’t do that anymore and it is truly a shame.
I am looking forward to creating more projects like this: it is definitely a very fun experience that pushes you to think differently when you do photography. At the center of it all is not only a good image with beautiful lighting and composition — it’s a bigger idea, an entire story you want to tell in just a couple of photographs. I definitely recommend trying this, the results may surprise you. The definitely surprised me. To this day, this is probably one of my favourite series I’ve shot. It is not the most perfect in terms of skills and technicality, but it is the most personal and emotional so far.