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“With time it’s looking more and more like I’m drawn towards work that I feel matters, and stories that I feel need to have a light shone on them”

Starting off with dreams of law school is not typically how you imagine someone’s path in the photography world starting. However this was exactly what happened to Bulgarian born, London based photographer Yassen Grigorov. Yassen is one the six photographers who we are delighted to be working with on the Darwin mentorship programme. 

Walking us through his process and love of shooting on analogue cameras, he shares with us his emotional pull to the medium and tactile process that comes along with film photography compared to digital. An example of his analogue approach is Exemplary Home. Exploring the North West of his native Bulgaria, he tells us how the narrative and context drew him in from his safe and objective distance, to creating a personal and emotive bond with the place and project. 

Below, Yassen shares with us his photographic processes, inspirations and what he hopes to get from the Darwin mentorship. Read on for a taste of what you can expect to see from Yassen over the coming months. 

How did you first get into photography and decide it was the path you wanted to follow? 

I started getting into photography about four/five years ago, when I was still in high school in Bulgaria. I sort of fell into it, just shooting on my phone and playing around with photo editing apps. Eventually I got so into it I saved up and got my first DSLR. From then on it really snowballed - I started shooting on manual, joined the photography society at my school and started seeking out the few accomplished professionals in Sofia. Eventually I came to the realisation that I could make a living doing photography, and whilst sharing my craft and vision with the world, so I dropped my plans of getting into law school in Sofia and went all in on an art degree in London instead. Three years later and a first-class BA in the bag, I haven’t looked back and have my sights set ever higher!

Wow, law to photography is a big change! Does the more law based academic part of you, (so to speak) influence your creative side? I guess so. I didn’t really know what my path was within photography at the beginning, and with time it’s looking more and more like I’m drawn towards work that I feel matters, and stories that I feel need to have a light shone on them, particularly in a documentary framework. I’d imagine this drive towards betterment and meaning is similar to the one found in most legal environments. In practical terms, I suppose there’s also something to be said about my commitment to methodology and research stemming from a similar mindset.

An integral element of your photographic practice is the use of analogue cameras. How did you get into using analogue and it become your favoured method? 

Getting into analog photography almost coincided with a major turning point in my practice. I bought my first film camera - a Zenit EM at the beginning of summer before moving to London. I had already been accepted into Westminster, and knew that analogue would be a big part of the curriculum, so I wanted to gain some insight into it and be a little proactive. I was instantly hooked, and found myself feeling much more attached to the images I made - some of the stuff from my very first roll of film I’d still happily stick up on my wall! A few months down the line, the beginning of winter in London, I bought my first “proper” SLR - a Canon AE-1 that became more or less the exclusive camera I used for the majority of my first year at uni. I also got to try out more or less every relevant film camera under the sun as a part of my degree, so by the time I had access to Hasselblad and Rolleiflex systems, there was no more going back to digital for me. I now own a Pentacon Six TL, which is steadily growing into one of my favourite cameras, and the one I shoot the most often.

As for why I shoot film over digital, it boils down to ontology. Digital images are automated translations of reality. They’re too surgical, too ethereal. I don’t particularly enjoy spending hours colour grading or retouching files, I’d much rather have the physical referent that is an image on emulsion. There’s still a long process in developing, scanning and post production, but at least I know what’s on the film itself is less adulterated than a digital image.

So would you say you have a more personal, emotional pull and connection to the film images and the process? Absolutely! I feel so much more attached to each shot that I take on film than I do when I work digitally, and I generally feel that tends to be the case for most people that work in a more analogue context. Pressing the shutter and hearing that loud mechanical clunk of the mirror going up, seeing the image in the viewfinder go blank before advancing the lever and having the image return after the lens opens up and the mirror comes back down just leaves much more of a distinctive impression than firing off on burst with autofocus on. That, and the entire risk factor of being able to mess up and not seeing a “completed” image until after developing and scanning it in just makes me grow way more attached than I ever could be to the hundreds of digital files I wind up with after a shoot. When I only have 12 images to work with in a roll each one has to be somewhat special, otherwise I wouldn’t waste the frame - with digital there’s no penalty, and as a result, less value, at least in terms of my process.

When starting a new project - whether personal or commercial - how do you approach it?

It does depend on the project itself, however I tend to break it down into a decently structured system. The initial stage is always pre-production. If all I have to go off of is an idea, I’ll brainstorm around it and essentially vomit up a bunch of words on a page and start identifying specific themes, narratives, tropes, etc. Once I have my goals for the project decently cleared up and identified, I start thinking about specific shots, different technical aspects, such as what I’m shooting it on and why, the best vessel for the finished work (be it an exhibition, phonebook, online gallery, augmented reality piece, or whatever else). I also begin researching the subject matter, which is a process that generally doesn’t stop until the project is completed, and by that point it usually develops into a field of interest that I keep in touch with on an ongoing basis long after I’ve concluded the work. At the next stage - production - I go and shoot, develop, scan, retouch, etc. Depending on the specific work I might go back and re-shoot. I often tend to arrive at an initial edit and find things that are missing or catch myself digressing and having to reel the work in. And then finally, once I have my finished series or image that I’m happy with, I go back and double check that I’ve achieved what I wanted to achieve, get as much feedback as possible from my peers and followers, and reflect. In reality the process isn’t so formulaic and there’s a lot of going back and forth and bouncing stuff off the walls, but generally speaking I’d say that’s a fair encapsulation of my process️!

Your project, Exemplary Home, perfectly marries a beautiful aesthetic and strong narrative really managing to pull the viewer in and open their eyes to exploring the north-west rural part of Bulgaria. It also seems like a very personal project, linking to your childhood and familial history in the wider context of the country's history. How did you find working with such personal topics? Did you find it hard distancing yourself as a photographer with there being such a strong familial connection?

Exemplary Home as a project was, in a sense, born out of the requirements of my course. It was the final major project for my degree, so when I initially conceptualised and grid-lined it, I didn’t yet know how personal it would become. At that very early stage, I foresaw it as more of a distanced, more objective and conventional documentary project that aimed to educate and inform more than to represent my own experience or indeed presence within that environment. Upon coming back from each shoot and looking at the images I had made, I started to realise that what I was intuitively shooting was in fact way more personal and intimate than that original brief I had given myself, and it actually took a little time to fully embrace that. To answer the question, I didn’t really need to distance myself - it had been almost ten years since I last visited those villages by the time I went back to shoot them. It had been three since I left Bulgaria to carry on my life in London - a decision that was largely influenced by my feelings towards the country and its people at the time. The distance was already there, and by taking on this project I was trying to challenge it. It certainly wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to put a work that wound up being so personal and intimate out there, especially as it involved sharing a lot of the turbulent, personal emotions that motivated what have been the most significant decisions in my life so far, but I believe art has to be honest, genuine and representative of the artist. I wouldn’t have been this happy with the work had the project been less personal.

You say the distance was already there with Exemplary Home rather than needing to create it. Do you think by the end you actually grew closer to the subject, personally, in some ways? Absolutely. By the time I was going back to shoot that work I was already super open to challenging and changing my view of Bulgaria, however it was the actual experiences I had and the people that I met whilst shooting that contributed so much to it actually working. It wouldn’t be too far to say I fell in love with that environment in a way. Of course, I still don’t want to make excuses for it and I’d still like for it to change, I don’t think its existence is in any ways justified, but I feel like I get it, and by extension the rest of my country, a little bit more now. I feel like I can accept the situation for what it is and focus more on what I can do through my work to help it; certainly the shame and negativity I felt about my roots is gone now.

What are you hoping to gain from the Darwin mentorship?

In my mind it’s another stepping stone on the path to success. Broadly speaking, I’d love to grow my photographic practice in a more industry-conscious context. The last three years have been about academia and finding my identity and style, whilst picking up an invaluable array of technical, soft and artistic skills along the way. I’m hoping this mentorship will help me achieve my goals not only artistically, but also commercially and help me sustainably grow my practice.

What can we be expecting to see from you in the future?

In the short to mid term, I’ve got a few exhibitions lined up - I’m participating in a show at the Centrala Space in Birmingham in April 2021, and Exemplary Home is having a solo show at the Ko-Op Gallery in Sofia over three weeks between February and March 2021. In a slightly longer term, I’m looking to keep expanding Exemplary Home as a project with the end goal being publishing a large-format photo book of the work.

Beyond that, you can expect more socially and politically conscious documentary work, more authentic analogue photography from the heart, and hopefully more exciting commercial commissions that help brands and fellow creatives visualise their stories and connect with those who matter to them the most!

To see more from Yassen during the mentorship, make sure you are following @darwinmagazine on Instagram To see more of Yassens work, visit www.ygreq.com

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“The photographs become visual records; small snippets into the subjects world, capturing a sacred moment of vulnerability of the person you are photographing.”

From early beginnings of falling in love with photography in his grandfather's darkroom to cycling across the globe to raise awareness of the charity Help Refugees, photography has been a big and constant part of Haydn Ward-Streeter’s life. Now, looking to further his practice and immerse himself more in the professional world of photography, Haydn is one of six recipients of the inaugural Darwin Mentorship. 

Recounting the people that inspired his passion for working behind the camera and the people and projects he has encountered across the world, it is evident that human connection and unique nature of everyone's individual stories is a pulling force for him. Haydn’s images create a rounded snapshot of the subject, with the emotive, human pull shining through to the viewer. Marrying a beautiful colour palette with strong portraiture that tells a story about the individual. 

Read on to get a taste of Haydn’s work for yourself and start following him on his mentorship with us.

Where did your love of photography start?

Probably from my first visit to my grandad's darkroom, which he made in the loft of his house. Photography has been a passion in the paternal line of my family for generations. But I was also lucky to be the first in my year at school to pick Photography as a GCSE, along with the three other students that picked it. We had to get a taxi to another school twice a week, to have the lessons and have access to a darkroom. It was also at this school that I had a really inspiring teacher called Miss Faricey. But my first personal memory of love with photography came from an early feeling of curiosity with the medium and how it can encapsulate a sacred moment in time. This really struck a chord with me, having been diagnosed with dyslexia from the age of six, I have always processed the world in a visual way.

While taking photographs for your project Cycle for Love, what was your method like? Was it quite random and “seeing where it takes you”, or a more planned and scheduled approach?

The Cycle for Love project was a three year journey cycling from the UK to New Zealand to see the world and raise funds and awareness for the charity Help Refugees. The method of taking photos throughout was a mixture. I shot a planned project in Athens while I was there, which formed into Beyond Borders, a series of portraits and Q&A’s looking at some of the people at the forefront for change in the refugee climate, specifically in Athens, Greece. Other work shot on the road was more fluid and I mainly just began by taking photos of things that caught my attention. Then I started to piece things together along the way, like a series of highly decorated Nepali trucks that I began documenting. I would often look back at the work I had been making and then see in retrospect which narratives were arising. I also really found myself gravitating towards portraiture as so many people that we encountered along the way were fascinating characters and I really progressed my process of gaining the trust of a subject and taking their picture.

You mentioned shooting with both planned and unplanned methods of practice, what feels most comfortable and prefered for you? 

My preferred methodology would have to be planned, but from structured beginnings I am then very open to seeing where the work flows, without tight restrictions. I have an editorial style personal project coming up, and I will take a more fluid and experimental approach for this. On the other hand I have a plan for a portrait series, which will take a more planned approach. It definitely depends on the project in hand, but a certain amount of planning is always needed in my work to get it off the ground.   

Your images tell some great stories, really resonating with the old saying “a picture speaks a thousand words”. What are some of the moments behind the images that stick with you the most?

The series of images I'm working on at the moment is from a time that really stuck with me. We were cycling through the Nagaland region of North East India and we were invited off the road to join a tribal festival, which we found out only happens every five years. The different tribes were gathering from the neighbouring towns of Nagaland and are well known for a history of headhunting which was only abolished in the 60’s. During the festival, each tribe would stand in a circle and compete in a harmonious throat singing contest, singing faster and faster until reaching a crescendo where they would fire their guns into the sky. I was drawn to the younger generations that although appeared adorned in centuries old traditions, showed subtle signs of growing up in a more Western-influenced and globalised world.

Cycle for Love, and your photography practice seems intrinsically linked with human connection, how has the Covid pandemic altered your approach to photography?

Yes indeed, when you open yourself up to be so vulnerable on the road to strangers, staying in a tent, cycling on rough roads, getting lost, you start to rely on these strangers for help, you have to. This made me fall in love with documentary portraiture, as it was a way to capture and remember these sometimes fleeting moments we had on the road. The photographs become visual records; small snippets into the subjects world, capturing a sacred moment of vulnerability of the person you are photographing. During this process I learnt to cultivate a deep respect for this transaction. I feel lucky that I had the chance to do this expedition just in time before the virus started to spread. I have spent most of lockdown looking through and editing all the work shot on the trip. I have also been testing out a new Pentax 67 in a more domestic setting.

What artists inspire your work or capture your attention? 

Recently, I've discovered Joel Sternfeld's work, in particular Stranger Passing. The work in my eyes is some of the best documentary style portraits I have seen. He did this project while travelling across America with his large format camera back in the late 90's. His images initially come across as almost banal, but if you look a bit closer, you start to see wonderfully strange details that alter your initial perception.

What are you hoping to gain from the Darwin mentorship?

I hope with some help and guidance I can take my personal projects to a progressed level of professionalism. I also hope to focus on my commercial and editorial practice as this is an area I’m lacking and want to build on. I hope the mentorship program can show me avenues within the photography world that I might not be aware of and that I can explore.

What can we be expecting to see from you in the future?

I would like to see myself taking on a lot more personal projects in the future that have strong narratives and progressive themes in the fight for change. I am in conversation with Good Chance Theatre (who produced The Jungle theatre production) to work with Handspring Puppet Company on a project where they are walking ‘Little Amel’ a 3-meter tall puppet of a young refugee child from the Syrian border to Manchester. This is an interesting project in the Pipeline.

It would be great if I could build on the crossover between commissions and personal projects in the future as I am also interested in developing a strong editorial portfolio.

To see more from Haydn during the mentorship, make sure you are following @darwinmagazine on Instagram 

To see more from Cycle for Love, visit http://www.cycleforlove.com/ 

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When photographer Will Harris’ much loved grandmother, Nana Evelyn developed dementia, he turned to photography as a mechanism for both understanding the current circumstance and allowing him to reconnect with the person who existed somewhere in time. 

You Can Call Me Nana explores the narrative of the sometimes present and sometimes vanished presence of Evelyn.  There is a hauntingly beautiful quality to images of facial features removed, aesthetically pleasing to the eye but its intent digging deep into our psyche and our own sense of self. Photographs from the family album are repurposed and manipulated to emulate the present. 

 In his work, Harris not only expresses his own feelings towards his nana’s condition but a tribute to her memory, who she was and the new relationship that had formed between Harris and Evelyn. No longer registering as her grandson, Harris took on the role of an old friend in Evelyn’s life, sharing what memories and history she still remembered for Harris to keep close and hold onto, her very own life archivist. 

Our memories by their very nature are deceiving, a healthy brain only remembers around 40% of true to life detail of our life experiences. With this in mind, the narrative of how one truly represents another's past to be an exact fact comes into question and also allows Harris to be selective, to celebrate his nana and her own history in a way that is true to the person she was but also the person she became whilst living with dementia. 

Photography has always been an incremental tool in reliving our pasts and understanding the history of others. A photograph in a way makes things real, a piece of evidence of a happening. With this in mind, the playful and sensitive nature in which Harris has navigated the circumstance he finds himself in and his nana’s legacy is both soulful and honest. The photographs linger with you, bringing a smile at seeing a young and healthy Evelyn and awakening a deep sadness at what dementia does to its hosts.

Harris describes the work as ‘painfully beautiful’. And he is right, You Can Call Me Nana is a series which pulls you in two directions from the sadness of  dementia to happy memories of Evelyn  that Harris carries with him. 

The photobook of You Can Call Me Nana is available for pre order here:

You can call me Nana (Second printing)

Words: Harry Rose