Somewhere around a week ago, I wrote to Brett Walker, with the hopes of writing this article. I asked him to tell me a few things about himself, about his “accomplishments” within the art field, generally what does he have to say about himself as a creator, a photographer and as a person, so I could portray him clear in my mind for the article.
His response was:
Brett Walker: “I have absolutely nothing to say about my work. No artistic achievements I’m proud of, no meaning behind my work. You’re more than welcome to write whatever you like about my photographs but I’m not interested in talking about me, its boring. Maybe you should choose someone who loves to talk about themselves and their “art”. I’m really honored that you asked me, but you you might want to look elsewhere, again thank you. B “
I found his response brilliant, it had the same rawness, the same honesty his photographs have and it did help me gain a deeper understanding. Brett is mysterious, he leaves photography to do the talking, because it doesn’t set a verdict, like words do. It’s more ambiguous, more misunderstanding and interpretable. His images attack the feelings they awaken within you, instead of telling you to feel in a certain way, or to believe a certain thing. That is so far what I could pick up, a very subjective opinion.
However, subjective or not I’ve been looking into his work for a few years now and I consider him my favorite photographer. Sure, he is not the only one I like, but while some others come and go his images stay in my memory. If you would ask me to show you a photographer who is scratching that side I keep hidden from the world, through creation, I would show you his page.
I see Brett’s photographs as terrifyingly natural. The rawness I was talking about comes exactly from this genuineness. Like walking in a place full of secrets and having all of them revealed through the things only you know and through your human transience. They are very personal and strong, even striking, as if they were taken by the eyes of those who appear in them, if you look at them once.
If you look twice and longer you will notice that they tell the bits of stories we omit, when we tell others how our life presents itself lately; this holds them all together – an invisible hand, which makes them impossible to remain unrecognized.
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