© Damien Drew from 'Shikoku Silence'
Hello Damien, firstly let's introduce our readers to your interest in photography? How did it all start and evolve?
Damien Drew (DD): My interest in photography started in high school when I inherited an unexpected gift from a cousin, of an enlarger and some basic darkroom equipment. My mother also had an old Canon AT-1 SLR, so I started to experiment, taking images of my environment, friends, and family. I grew to love shooting film at an early age and built a simple plywood darkroom under the family house. This passion grew into travel photography, but it wasn’t until much later in life that I started to practice visual storytelling through the medium of photography.
What about your educational path? Did it have any impact on you? Any lessons learned?
DD: I had wanted to study photography and was accepted into Sydney College of the Arts in the early 1990s, but I was encouraged by my family to “study an applied art” as they commented I risked becoming “an impoverished wedding photographer.” I doubt that would have been the case, and I disagreed with their assessment of wedding photographers. Regardless, I ended up earning a Bachelor of Architecture degree and worked as an architect after graduation for a few years. I then started working in film as a set designer due to a shortage of trained drafts-people to draw film sets at the newly opened Fox Studios in Sydney.
© Damien Drew set photos for movie 'Elvis' (Baz Luhrmann, 2022)
© Damien Drew set photos for movie 'Elvis' (Baz Luhrmann, 2022)
My architectural training has certainly given me a fantastic grounding in both the way I practice and view the built environment, and my time in the film industry has informed my understanding of the significance of creating spaces and structures for visual storytelling.
You are also a Production Designer and Art Director working in production design for feature films, commercials, and television. Does it all intertwine with your personal photography skills and passion?
DD: I think the boundaries between the two become less and less clear as time progresses. I once secured a job in a competitive interview process by not taking any drawings or my usual work portfolio to an interview with a prominent film director. Instead, I took a selection of about a dozen of my photographic images and explained that I felt he might be more interested in my ‘way of seeing’ than in my past film and TV projects. I got the job.
© Damien Drew technical drawing for movie 'Matrix Reloaded' (Lana Wachowski, Lilly Wachowski, Warner Bros, 2003)
© Damien Drew technical drawing for movie 'Matrix Reloaded' (Lana Wachowski, Lilly Wachowski, 2003)
© Damien Drew from 'Wabi-Sabi', Shima Onsen, Gunma, 2012
Having my own photography practice allows for a type of discourse with cinematographers and directors that might not be as accessible if I viewed the filmmaking process solely through an architectural lens. Many of them find my photographic practice of interest, and those skills broaden the lens through which I view my set design work and vice versa. The training in architecture, including understanding the fundamentals of design, balance, contrast, scale, proportion, and visual rhythm, clearly influences my photography practice.
© Damien Drew, set design for movie 'Superman Returns' (Bryan Singer, 2006)
© Damien Drew technical drawing for movie 'The Great Gatsby' (Baz Luhrmann, 2013)
What are the themes that interest you, what generally attracts your photographic observation?
DD: I am attracted to the passage of time, as evidenced by changes in the fabric of the built environment, and the stories and social forces behind these changes. I am discouraged by the increasing homogeneity of the world in which we move, the growth of the ‘franchised landscape,’ and the loss of authentic communities and the environments they created. My first publication, Everywhere was Wherever, was prompted by riding from Miami to Los Angeles on a motorcycle and witnessing that every place felt like no place in particular. The same branded motels, gas stations, and chain stores littered all 6000 miles of my trip, resulting in an overwhelming sense of placelessness and personal alienation. Smaller villages were often shuttered and barely functioning as everyone drove to centralised malls and chain stores.
© Damien Drew from 'Everywhere Was Wherever"
This led me to explore similar themes in Japan through my second publication, Wabi-Sabi, which presented diptychs of architectural and non-architectural vignettes in conversation. It also referenced the Japanese aesthetic philosophy that finds value in that which is impermanent, ephemeral, or bears the marks of the passage of time. The central theme of my current show and publication, Shikoku no Seijaku (Shikoku Silence), focuses on the effects of depopulation and demographic shifts in rural Japan on communities and the environments they leave behind.
From a methodological point of view, what is your approach to the medium? How do you envision or conceptualize the projects?
DD: The creation of my earlier series was characterised by a gradual and somewhat organic approach. Everywhere was not shot with the intention of becoming a book or exhibition, but in the months following that cross-continent motorcycle trip, I realised that I had documented something significant and wanted to share these remnant facades that spoke to a fading America. Wabi-Sabi grew out of 10 years of trips to Japan, amassing a thematically cohesive body of work. That series emerged from a growing awareness of the social changes affecting Japan, and in parallel, I engaged in a process of documentation that evidenced those themes in the built environment. Shikoku Silence, in contrast, was created during a relatively short and geographically focused period of deliberate documentation of Shikoku Island. It was grounded in a much greater awareness and study of the demographic changes affecting rural Japan and its communities.
© Damien Drew from 'Wabi-Sabi', Asagaya, Tokyo, 2015
Do you privilege any camera or process in particular? Do you dialogue with other experts when developing your work? Or do some kind of research?
DD: Wabi-Sabi was a mixture of film and digital imagery, but the latter series were all shot with Fuji digital cameras, specifically the XPro 2 and GFX 50R. I chose the GFX 50R deliberately for Shikoku no Seijaku, as I had always hoped to present large-scale fine art prints in a gallery context. I was attracted to the huge dynamic range of these cameras, their ability to render fine detail, and the tonal range in the resulting images. The large sensor allows for large-scale prints, revealing elements and details that are not obvious even on a large monitor.
I thoroughly researched the locations for these series, much like scouting locations for film. In Wabi-Sabi, parts of Tokyo and Osaka central to the work are referred to as shitamachi, neighbourhoods considered the downtown of Old Edo that did not keep pace with the rapid modernisation of the rest of the city. Similarly, I chose Shikoku for my latest body of work because, as the smallest of Japan’s four major landmasses and the most remote, I hoped its rural communities would provide compelling subjects. I also researched the phenomena driving these dramatic shifts in rural Japan through journals, news articles, and online commentary to better understand my subjects.
© Damien Drew from 'Shikoku Silence'
Let's delve into the project Shikoku Silence? What is the motivation and the theme you addressed?
DD: My motivation for shooting Shikoku Silence was twofold. Firstly, I wanted to document the disappearing communities of rural Japan and capture a moment in time when the Japanese government acknowledges that their aging population and the social forces driving the depopulation of rural Japan are at a breaking point for the ongoing viability of these towns and villages. ABC journalist James Oaten recently reported that, in the next 15 years, up to 900 villages are expected to become unviable across rural Japan. Secondly, my aim was to celebrate and memorialise these communities by creating images of beauty and stillness that honour the people and places affected by these changes.
I deliberately wanted to avoid the ‘ruin porn’ often favoured by urban exploration subcultures, instead creating images that speak with reverence and honour the Japanese people and their nation. Likewise, I went to great lengths to produce a bilingual publication of Shikoku no Seijaku so that the story is not one of a photographic voyeur but also one that the Japanese people, specifically the people of Shikoku, may engage with. To achieve this, I collaborated with Dr. Kei Nishiyama and Mr. Lachie Hill, both arts and humanities academics living in Japan.
© Damien Drew from 'Shikoku Silence'
And what are the practical difficulties or challenges you faced in its development?
DD: I do not have command of the Japanese language, so understanding the nuances of the stories behind the photographs requires some research even after shooting. Likewise, there was rarely anyone at these locations to ask. Questions arose about the nature of the businesses: Did they close because the owner is deceased, or for other reasons? Why does the tsunami safety tower have a giant disability ramp from top to bottom? Why does the Japanese government continue to invest in massive civil infrastructure programs when there are no people left to use them?
As I shot and edited, I made it my mission to research and understand the answers to these questions and more. I also created some topographical information to complement the limited publications. While mapping the locations of these structures, I realised that many had been demolished in the two short years since they were photographed. Shikoku itself is a small island, with most of its interior characterised by winding single-lane mountain roads. It was certainly a challenge to navigate and shoot in a practical sense, but it was also a very beautiful and remote environment. An elderly local assumed I was an offshore land developer when I was photographing in his village. I went to great lengths to assure him I was merely a photographer.
© Damien Drew from 'Shikoku Silence'
© Damien Drew from 'Shikoku Silence'
© Damien Drew from 'Shikoku Silence'
You have recently released a book from the same series. From an editorial point of view, what choices guided you in the selection of the final portfolio? Any tips to share from the process? And where can we find the book?
DD: Editing 1,400 images into a cohesive narrative and body of work is certainly challenging. I believe I was successful by following two basic guidelines: the images had to either contribute to the central narrative of the series by depicting the effects of demographic shifts on the built environment or reflect my personal journey around Shikoku. Not all the images depict decay and loss; some are vignettes of what remains functionally of these fading communities. I had to let go of some images I was personally attached to purely for their aesthetic qualities, such as their forms or graphic nature. I recall speaking with Steve Bisson from Urbanautica during a portfolio review early in the process. It became evident that a series can become much stronger when you let go of the one or two images to which you are most personally attached.
© Damien Drew book 'Shikoku No Seijaku' (Shikoku Silence), 2024
The book contains a foreword by Dr. Mike Hale, a friend and colleague with a PhD in architectural theory. Among other concepts, Dr. Hale explores the central idea of the ‘everyday unseen’—that which we might habitually overlook—and how one’s perspective as an outsider in Japan relates to this central idea. The publication is limited to 200 linen-bound and debossed copies, featuring 62 black-and-white plates over 102 pages. The book is available in both English and Japanese text and can be purchased through my website with international shipping.
Shikoku Silence is not the only work based in Japan. Do you have a particular interest in the country or its culture in general?
DD: I have a deep passion for Japan, especially its rich history and its significant contributions to art, architecture, design, and typography. For visual people, modern Japan can be completely overwhelming due to its immense visual richness. This was what initially drew me to the country for some respite, only to discover the landscapes and townships that are central to my work. These issues are also affecting many Western countries, so perhaps it’s time to explore further afield.
© Damien Drew from 'Wabi-Sabi', Shimagawa Dam, Gunma, 2012
How important is it to showcase your work? You are currently exhibiting in Sydney. Tell us more about it?
DD: It is very important for me to share my images in a tangible, physical environment. Experiencing these images printed on a large scale or in a book offers a completely different experience compared to viewing them digitally. The opening of my show last week was also a significant cross-cultural opportunity. I was thrilled to welcome the Japanese Consul General in Sydney to the exhibition, only to discover that he was born and raised in Shikoku, and one of the key images from the show is from his hometown. Such opportunities are not found on Instagram.
© Cover exhibition at Woollahra Gallery at Redleaf, Sydney, 2024
The show is currently at Woollahra Gallery at Redleaf in Sydney and features 23 works from the series in a beautiful turn-of-the-century historic building on the shores of Sydney Harbour. It is open Wednesday through Sunday until August 11. I hope to tour the show to Japan to share the images and the book with locals in Shikoku and beyond. For more information, you can visit the exhibition page and gallery store here: Woollahra Gallery Exhibition.
© Installation view at Woollahra Gallery at Redleaf, Sydney, 2024
© Installation view at Woollahra Gallery at Redleaf, Sydney, 2024
Any interesting books or shows that you recommend and that recently inspired you and why?
DD: I recently purchased and am fascinated by Jeffrey Ladd’s 'A Field Measure Survey of American Architecture' from Mack Books in the UK. It is unique in that it features not Ladd’s photographs but rather a curated selection of historic photographs from the Historic American Buildings Survey held in the US Library of Congress. It is a distinctive publication, and I find it fascinating how strictly documentary work can now be presented in a fine art context. I also note that it has been reviewed by Urbanautica. Likewise, I recently purchased two volumes by Australian photographer Warren Kirk: 'Northside and Suburbia', which lovingly document the fading history of Australia’s city suburbs. He has been a documentary photographer for over 30 years.
Is there any artist or photographer you would recommend us to spotlight on Urbanautica?
DD: I would love to see Warren Kirk interviewed on Urbanautica for his unique perspective on documenting the urban fabric of Australian cities.
Damien Drew (website)