To call you multi-faceted is an
understatement. You have a robust background in art, illustration &
drawing, design, print making and of course photography. How did your vision
evolve towards the photographic medium as your focus?
My
abilities with various mediums emerged more or less like a reflex, with one
interest leading into the next without much conscious thought about a bigger
picture; creativity is mysterious, its difficult to explain. Photography is
definitely the focus of what I’m currently sharing online, but I’ve also been
working on several projects outside of photography that I haven’t openly shared
yet. Cultivating anything of personal significance obviously takes a certain
amount of invested energy; it feels vital to protect the creative process – to
keep it for myself until I am ready.
I
believe my creative achievements are a direct result of my mental condition, as
an autistic savant. My autism is actually a very mild form (asperger’s
syndrome, specifically), but there are traits within that condition that can be
seen as very helpful towards creativity: enormous curiosity, perseverance, and
a desire to make sense of the world. ‘Savant’ is an ambiguous term, which can
loosely refer to any very knowledgeable person; in the case of autistic savants,
it means there is exceptional ability in one or more fields that coexists with
some form of disability.
Growing
up, I always felt very different from my peers and spent a lot of time alone
because of that. My creativity emerged and through its expression, I was able
to connect to other people in a meaningful way; it allowed me to work around
what felt personally difficult so that eventually I focused more on my strengths
than my limitations. I actually was not formally diagnosed until this past year,
at age 28, so I never recognized my difference as a disability—I think my Dad
was intuitively aware that there was something about me he couldn’t fully
understand, but he was always incredibly nurturing and supportive of my
interests. Despite the sense of relief and self-understanding my belated
diagnosis has given me, I feel like its absence through my development was
valuable in the sense that I never thought of myself as being less than others,
only different.
How important or effective rather,
has it been having such a varied arts background in shaping and executing your
photographic style?
Having
never studied photography, my priorities are idea-based rather than being based
in technical proficiency. A perfect exposure matters less to me than the visual
language within the frame - the same visual language that I would consider
regarding works in any medium. To me, my abilities will always be secondary to
my overall perception. Perhaps my awareness of difference and sensitivity to
what it means to be different is what matters the most. In the context of repeatedly
recycling themes and materials (which is what I do in my work), having an
idiosyncratic perspective feels more essential than having the most impressive
technique.
Your work focuses very much on the
concept of the self, identity, shape and form and of course sexuality. How
would you describe your work and what do you want the viewer to come away with
after seeing your work?
A
large portion of my work is reflective—a practice for processing my own
feelings—so I think how others perceive its meaning will always be vastly
different from what it represents to me. It may seem contradictory, given some
of the writings I pair with my work, but I never aim to express precise ideas
through imagery. I’m not sure that I care so much about a viewer understanding
my exact thinking, although I do find the perceptions and theories offered by
others regarding my work to be very interesting. Any writing that I share with
a body of work is not necessarily representative of what the project means to
me on a personal level, but more so offers a starting point for contemplation.
An
observer’s role is to interpret; they need to use their mind to collaborate
with whatever it is they are observing—to make sense of it. Maybe my work can
serve as an invitation to others, to see the world differently, not solely by
looking outwardly, but also by looking within—at the subjective memories,
ideas, and emotions that inform each interpretation.
I mentioned sexuality as one of the
themes that seems pertinent to your work. One could also say control, dominance
and freedom too, can be witnessed through your work. What is it about the
aesthetic of the self, control and dominance that interests you and continues
to shine through in your work?
Dominance
is a word that I rarely think about outside the context of animal behavior or genetics.
In terms of the BDSM subculture, I can’t say that I find the variations in
dominance and submission themes particularly inventive - although I can easily
appreciate the importance of dominance roles and admire how these enthusiasts
recognized that significance, in many ways, before the science of
neuropsychology did.
In
simplest terms, fetishism refers to the use of an object to negotiate (usually
binary) difference to achieve an immaterial end—more broadly, it offers a means
to focus on the meaning and constitution of the relation between subjects and
objects. Fetishism is, in many ways, an act of interpretation. In the context
of my own work, I contemplate fetishism as an instructive strategy; thinking through
fetishism, rather than simply about it, and attempting to use it as a perspective
for exploring subjects and objects, desire and knowledge, identity and
difference.
You work primarily with female
models in your photography. Is this something that once again ties into the
central themes of your work or is it simply a preference rather than a
statement?
My
first photo subject ever was actually a close male friend of mine, who was
doing drag performances at the time and needed photos of himself as his
different female characters. The images were entirely his vision and his
creative direction, but it was my role to be behind the camera and help him
with his body—finding the most feminine angles.
I’ve
always been very androgynous in my preferences about physical appearance, or
rather I would have preferred to be more androgynous. Being raised by my Dad, I
wanted to be just like him. Puberty happened and my dream of being just like an
adult male was derailed. My friend who did the drag performances unknowingly
framed the concept of being feminine to me in a more digestible way: rather than
simply seeing it as “being unlike my Dad,” my friend showed me that its okay to
experiment and interpret femininity without necessarily having a clear understanding
of what it means. So my first self-portraits with photography were with myself,
a woman, “in drag” as a woman… gradually, the process evolved and expanded to
include more complex ideas.
I
choose to focus on collaborating with women now for practical reasons: they are
able to fit into my clothing and I am able learn from them; I think because of
my struggles with my own femininity in addition to the differences in how my
brain functions, I continue to seek discourse with women of all ages, for the
insight they can offer me and the mutual recognition the interaction itself
offers. Awareness of different perspectives helps me to know myself better and
feeling validated by women is very meaningful to me. Throughout my life, I’ve
had various male mentors who each taught me a great deal; female perspectives
remain more mysterious to me, less familiar.
Your use of bold colour, sharpness,
shape and crispness in your photographic style is very poignant and something I
love about your work. A sense of chaos
of the self contrasted against the simplistic bold backdrop. How much of this
is a power play between the object and the environment?
I
think it’s more of a stylistic approach: attempting to simplify abstract
interpretations of complex ideas, hopefully without excessively simplifying.
Are there any themes or imagery you
have yet to tackle but want to?
Yes,
I write endless notes to myself of ideas. Some of them end up in word
documents, evolving into larger texts. Eventually, I start to see images in my
mind connected to those blocks of language. Several of these text documents are
now over ten years old, expanding towards clarity over time, and others I write
only a day before creating an image. Its not a rigid system, though, I have
ideas in my mind that I don’t transcribe anywhere—they emerge directly as
images. I have trouble creating the experience of rest in my thoughts; I’m
always contemplating.
You, yourself are an elusive
creature to capture on film. Much like many artists is your preference to
remain behind the camera rather than in front?
I
am actually in front of the camera regularly for my self-portrait work, but
always without a face—which is how I shoot most subjects. Obviously, being
behind the camera and looking through it is a different experience from
stepping in front of a camera that operates itself through a remote, but I
enjoy the unknown aspects in both processes: either I can’t see how I am being
captured or I am unsure of how a subject will move through the frame.
As
far as being elusive, that is conveniently connected to my socially awkward
mode of being. I haven’t comfortably reconciled with the current scale of my online
audience; the idea of a large number of strangers potentially recognizing or
approaching me at any moment overwhelms me. I’ve been recognized by my tattoos a
few times and I don’t think I handled it as well as I wish I was able to. I
feel uneasy about being the center of anyone’s attention and have difficultly
sustaining eye contact. I think, in many ways, it’s easier for me to not be too
easily identifiable. I definitely have the capacity to be socially fluid, but I
really need to plan in advance and mentally prepare for it.
Who are some of your personal
photographic or artistic influences and can you tell us why? And any
muse/muses?
I’m
actually not knowledgeable enough about the history of photography or even
contemporary photographers to attribute any specific photographic influences.
Growing up, my Dad was very excited about and supportive of my creative
abilities. He placed prints of surrealist paintings around the house, with my
childhood art displayed in between. “Not to be reproduced,” by René Magritte,
is one of my favorites. It reminds me of my Dad because he chose it for our
house and it also reminds me of my own concept of “me,” as other: an open-ended
question rather than a subject who can truly be known.
You’ve done both artistic and
commercial work. How difficult is it to find the right balance between staying
true to your own vision and working with commercial visions from clients? And how to you manage the love/hate relationship
with the commercial art world?
I’ve
actually never received clear instructions or ideas from a client, just the
number of required images and a compensation arrangement. In that respect,
researching a client’s history of projects and weighing it against my own body
of work to develop an idea that they might appreciate—it can be a stressful
process. I’ve been told many times that I have no place in commercial
photography with the reasoning being that my work is “too weird,” so when I do take
on projects that involve businesses, I try to be conscious and respectful
towards whatever branding they have developed. In all honesty, though, I never
know how anything will be received: if it will be praised or entirely
misunderstood. I click on the ‘send’ button, brace for impact, and hope for the
best.
In
terms of the commercial art world, I can’t pretend to know what’s going on
there; it is like a faraway continent and I’m on my small island. I have only
recently boarded a ferry to the mainland by accident and I hope that I’ll be
allowed a return ride so I don’t have to build my own raft to get back.
Thank you so much for taking the
time to speak with us. What can we expect to see from you in 2017?
I
will continue to be true to myself.
All photos © Rita Minissi
