joanathegrey ASKED:

Where did you get inspiration?

Music, mostly — the worlds I found in Boys and Girls, Daydream Nation, or Dog Man Star drove me to photography in the first place. I’m still hoping to reach their heights someday — never mind the glory of Soundtracks for the Blind.

As for more direct, visual inspiration, if you dig through this Tumblr you’ll find plenty of people I found inspiring over the years. Here are some painters I love & I think you’ll love them too: Balthus, Smith, Modigliani, Nerdrum, Saville. And let’s not forget photographers, of course! Here’s today’s top 5: Newton, Bourdin, Moon, Ballen, Penn.

Love, Nikola

Ask me anything.

Anonymous asked:

“Do you concentrate on a particular outlet for your work, or do you follow the money? If you could produce more of a type of work (art/portrait vs. commercial, or studio vs. on-site work) what would you like to be doing?”

I had a great opportunity with my nightlife work to do the smart thing and follow the money, and I stopped doing nightlife when it stopped being challenging. My heroes were 83 and 92 when they died, and I see no reason not to do this until the end — it better not feel like a job, then.

On the other hand, fuck the Myth of the Starving Artist. Make money, make lots of money for god’s sake, but don’t allow your calling to turn into a job. Make yourself uncomfortable, have someone you love challenge you as much as possible. Last week, as part of an interesting series of conversations at the Rubin Museum, Stefan Sagmeister referred to what he does as his calling, and the word struck me as if I heard it for the first time: a calling as something you answer and follow wherever it may lead.

So at this moment, fashion photography presents a huge challenge for me, in terms of content. (As well as logistics involved in making it.) I’ve no idea what I’m doing 90% of the time, and that’s part of what makes it so interesting. Incidentally, not knowing what the hell you’re doing is no problem at all, and shouldn’t stop you from doing great work. Just ask Sarah Moon.

Studio vs. location: locations inspire me — I’m a little tired of blank studio walls staring blankly back at me. (Funnily enough, there’s a book of very minimalistic studio portraiture I’ve done for these guys coming out on Random House soon, and a series of white background portraiture at Home of the Vain.)

Art vs. commercial is not an either/or proposition — it’s a matter of balance. Ideally, they can feed off each other, and sometimes, the distinction is irrelevant: Guy Bourdin’s work for Charles Jourdan is a great example.

Ask me anything.

Sarah Moon, Contacts

“I have been taking almost the same picture for twenty years, a fashion picture: a dress, a woman — or rather, a woman, a dress — close-up or full-length, sitting, standing, inside, outside, in the shade or in the light, summer or winter, no matter. I photograph privilege, illusion, evanescence, unlikeness, beauty. Then I seek for an emotion. It seems an even more hopeless quest.”

“I’ve often envied those who photograph life. I avoid it. I start from nothing, I make up a story which I leave untold, I imagine a situation which doesn’t exist, I wipe out a space to invent another, I shift the light, I render everything unreal. And then I try. I watch out for what I didn’t expect, I wait to see what I can’t remember, I undo what I put together, I hope for hazard, but more than anything, I long to be struck as I shoot.”

“So I walk around the model, I look at her endlessly, face, profile, back, upside down, top to toe, I change the angles, I cheat the perspective. As the model has only one place, I’m looking for for mine. I can’t find it. I want to be somewhere else. I keep on. I hang on to shapes: the curve of the neck, the folds of the dress, the gesture of the hand, the balance of the hips. The model moves slowly, she suggests, she tries to understand what I can’t explain. she tries to play a part I can’t follow. I hear myself say ‘No no, do nothing.’ So again she waits, she stares at me, she sees my panic, I feel I’m letting her down, I feel guilty, so I press a button, I say it’s great, yes, I pretend once, twice, 36 times. I hope and I begin again. Time goes by, the night falls, I lose confidence, I don’t want to be a photographer anymore.”

“Then, all of a sudden, but not always, something changes, I can’t say why, maybe I’m just in the right place at the right time, or maybe I believe in it. However, for a split second, I see a sparkle of beauty passing by, everything goes so quickly now within that stilness, and I’m carried away, and at last I like what I see, and I can’t stop finding it, then losing it, and all day long I keep on, because it once existed.”

Buy Contacts vol. 2: The Renewal of Contemporary Photography. More Contacts.