STEVE BENNETT

Favorite Medium: Dye sublimation on aluminum

Can you tell us about your background and how you first became interested in art?

The amber bulbs bathed the room in soft warm light. Paper floated in a tray. I waited. “When will it happen?” I asked, fidgeting like any 10-year-old. “Just be patient,” my father said. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the faint trace of an image began to appear on the paper, the ghost-like forms giving way to solid shapes. Moments later, a photo materialized through the developer solution. This was my first experience of the magical nature of photography, and it’s stayed with me throughout my life.

I learned a lot from my father, a radiologist by vocation and avid photographer by avocation. I was fortunate to grow up in a house with a well-equipped darkroom, good camera gear, and a wonderful teacher. I was equally lucky to attend the University of Rochester, which is in Eastman Kodak’s backyard. While there, I spent many an afternoon at the George Eastman House and the International Museum of Photography, studying the works of the most celebrated photographers in history.

Graduate school took me to Cambridge, Massachusetts, where I hoped to pursue an academic career in East Asian studies and the history of science at Harvard. But, after three years, I abandoned my dreams of a good life in academia and traded the shutter button of my camera for the starter switch on a motorcycle. If I hadn’t been broke at the time, I would have had both the bike AND the camera gear—so many missed opportunities as I traveled around the back roads of New England!

Photography again appeared on my radar screen in the mid-nineties. At the time, I was making a living as a tech writer and serving as a freelance spokesperson for consumer product companies. Hewlett Packard hired me to be a spokesperson for its then-revolutionary Photosmart digital camera. The best part of the gig was setting up Photosmart pavilions in shopping malls where people would stop by to see this remarkable new product. Along with HP staff, I’d demonstrate the magic of digital photography. Point. Click. Transfer to computer. And voila, the image appeared on the computer monitor! People were delighted and amazed, probably much in the same way that Polaroid stunned people in 1948 when it demoed the Model 95 instant camera at the Jordan Marsh department store in Boston.

Since my HP spokesperson days, digital photography has grown from a curiosity to an important part of my life. As the founder of a firm that specializes in Web design and development for authors and publishers, AuthorBytes, I spend part of my time directing a team of creative people. Photography is “my turn,” my opportunity to fuse artistic vision with technique and technology.

Please walk us through your creative process from idea conception to completion of a piece.

My process depends on whether I’m engaged in traditional photography (the part of my practice I call “the world as seen”), or I’m using the camera to create elements for digital composites/collages (“the world as reimagined”).

Traditional Photography

My traditional photography encompasses three broad categories: street, detailed close up/macro images of natural and human-made subjects, and landscapes.

On the street, I look for poignant moments within the ordinary as people go about their day, commuting, on the job, or reflecting in the moment. I either find a vantage point and take pictures as the scene changes, or I blend into the flow of pedestrians––I try to be a “ghost,” silently taking photos as I move along. Either way, the process is purely opportunistic; I never know who or what will appear in my viewfinder, which is a large part of the excitement for me. Once I’m home, I typically spend no more than 3-4 minutes per shot editing and correcting lighting. My goal is to get it right in-camera as much as possible.

Plurality

Confidence

For landscape photography, I’ll first sit and observe the light and pre-visualize the image without holding up the camera. When I’m ready to shoot, my intent is always to convey a sense of the sheer awe and humility that nature on its grandest scale evokes.  When I return, I typically spend 30 minutes making minor adjustments so the final image matches what I saw.

Nature’s Layer Cake, Zion National Park

And when viewing the world through a macro lens, my goal is to draw viewers into canvases filled with rich patterns and forms that are invisible or not readily discernible to the human eye. Sometimes, I’ll “focus stack” images of botanical or mechanical subjects, taking 50 or more shots and combining them for maximum clarity. Post processing can take an hour or more per finished image.

Composites/Digital Collages

In my traditional photography practice, I strive to create a faithful representation of what I see, with the least amount of editing and adjustments. My composites are just the opposite. I use a variety of digital tools to bend, break, and blend multiple photographs to create imaginary scenes designed to launch viewers into virtual realms of the imagination—both mine and theirs. I often combine architectural, infrastructure, technological, human, and natural elements. The resulting work is an invitation to explore alternative realities filled with mystery, suspense, and surprise as viewers navigate between “what is” and “what if.”

Interlude

I organize my composites into the following categories: urban reimaginations, nature reimagined, still life reimagined, fantasy, and abstracts. None of the works are intentional; I rarely set out with camera in hand and a vision for a finished composite artwork. I might photograph a variety of disparate elements that seem to “belong” together. Back at the computer, I place the elements on separate layers and begin the process of experimenting with gradients, filters, and various adjustments.

I often set out just to expand my “component bank” that consists of thousands of images of buildings, architectural details, people, vehicles, all manner of trash and discards, plant life, and more. I carefully catalog and keyword the images so I can easily search for potential elements that might comprise a new composite.

Transitional Space

Sometimes I search for a specific element (e.g., a texture, a streak of color, a structure, or a crowd of pedestrians). Other times, I just browse the bank for ideas. Either way, the component bank has been at the core of my practice for many years. 

Where do you find inspiration? And what motivates you to create?

My inspiration comes from a number of sources: traveling, reading about art history, watching process videos, and visiting art exhibits. Travel in particular—especially to the Western U.S.—fuels both my traditional and composite photography practices. I’m always awestruck by the unfettered panoramic views and the sense of geological time I experience when hiking through canyons, gorges, and mountainous terrain.  

But I’ve also learned that I don’t have to travel far from home to witness and capture incredible scenes. By paying close attention to the everyday details of life—the mundane stuff that we ignore as we come and go—whole worlds open up to us, each with stories to tell. I’m talking about raindrops trapped in a spider’s web…delightful curves and geometries in buildings…plant life growing in the most seemingly inhospitable environments…or the sun backlighting a set of girders and creating a visual playground for the eye. In short, there are universes filled with colors, textures, harmonies, and pleasing graphic tensions right within our view.

How do you know when a piece is finished?

I subscribe to Gerhard Richter’s chess game/painting analogy. After you initiate the game, the artwork makes a move. And then it’s your turn, and so on. Eventually you call checkmate. Sometimes, I think that the artwork lets me know when it’s game over.

On a practical level, for me a work is complete when I reach a point of diminishing returns on further editing. Because all of my art is digitally produced, every piece can be infinitely tweaked, unlayered, and re-layered with relative ease. Occasionally, when new editing tools become available, I might rework an older image. But there’s a point at which anything I do won’t make a significant difference in terms of the art and the message. Ultimately, the decision to call a piece finished is one from my gut.

How has the Experimental Group influenced your work?

I’ve found the meetings to be inspiring and informative. I’m so impressed by the work of EG members and am honored to be part of the group. EG pushes me to think about what it means to be an artist. I especially enjoyed the virtual studio visit with Paul Balmer; listening to him describe his techniques resonated with me and reinforced my ideas about using traditional tools in non-traditional ways.

Does your work have a message and is this important to you?

With my traditional photography, I want to inspire people to look at the mundane with new eyes. A neighbor once asked why I spend so much photographing spiderwebs in the rain; once he saw my finished images, he enthused about how he had become a regular and avid web-watcher. That reaction was priceless.

My composites are about reframing/reimagining reality. The key message is that you can step into worlds where time and space are malleable, defying conventional laws of nature. And, when you return, you might see the world a little differently.

Which artists do you enjoy, and how have you been influenced by them?

I’ve always been drawn to the early greats of photography, Ansel Adams, Minor White, Imogen Cunningham, Edward Weston, Dorthea Lange, and Henri Cartier-Bresson. Their work is authentic and provides a beacon for my traditional photography. At the other extreme, I’m also drawn to Man Ray for his groundbreaking work with multiple images—truly an experimental photographer. And there’s the visionary/experimental photographer Jerry Uelsmann, who created fabulous other worldly images without opening Photoshop or similar software.  

I also love surrealistic painting and am immediately transported to another dimension when I view the work of Salvador Dali, René Magritte, Kay Sage, Max Ernst, Frida Kahlo, and many others who fire my imagination.

And finally, there’s draftsman/lithographer M.C. Escher; I can spend hours traversing his optical illusions and mathematically driven impossible constructions.   

Looking back on your artistic journey, what advice would you give to aspiring artists?

First and foremost, create art because you LOVE it and it’s part of your being. Set your expectations about making a living as an artist. It’s okay to have a day job if you don’t have other means of support. There’s so much art out there and too few collectors. Maybe you’ll catch a lucky break. But hope is not a strategy for success in the arts (or any field of endeavor). It’s hard work to build a brand and attract collectors. In short, to have shot at selling your work, think of yourself as a business. 

Join an art association or two so you move beyond your bubble and become part of an art community. Associations provide opportunities to share and learn and can be helpful in getting your work shown.

Finally, whatever your art genre, learn the rules, then learn how to break them. For example, in traditional photography, you find all kinds of compositional rules. And they’re great starting points—sometimes, they’re also great ending points. Don’t be afraid to experiment!

What is your favorite thing to do when you are not in the studio making art?

I love to bicycle and take long walks with my dog, AJ. (But, truth be told, I always have a camera with me…) 

Website:https://www.stevebennett.com/

LinkedIn:https://www.linkedin.com/in/stevebennettvisualartist/