© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

Ryan, a few years have passed since our meeting in Sao Paulo, I wonder how your approach to photography matured and evolved?

Ryan Debolski (RD): Yes, it’s been a while, and my approach has clearly changed. In São Paulo, I was working with a large-format camera. The process was slow, methodical, and cumbersome. I spent most of the time walking around the city looking for specific subject matter that fit preconceived notions of what I believed my project was about. It felt like I put too many constraints on myself, and didn’t give my work enough room to breath and develop organically. Since then my workflow has become far less stringent and more open to unpredictability. I’ve learned the importance of being flexible. Nowadays, I gravitate towards narratives that have multiple layers of meaning and use ambiguous structures. With that said, I also tend to conceptualize work with the book in mind, and that has helped guide my process.

I would like to invite you to reflect on the role of photography? Photojournalism is often criticized and praised at other times, praised. The debate is a bit like an accordion that opens and closes. At least this "push and pull" has led to re-consider the hit and run approach of so much reportage and has led to developing new perspectives for photography, slower, more inclusive, more participatory approaches. What do you think?

RD: I think it’s important that photography develops new approaches that are more inclusive, especially photojournalism and documentary work. If you look back at the history of this genre of photography, much of it appears problematic. I don’t believe one can fully operate in that mindset without adapting and considering the current state of the world. I think the possibilities for new, creative approaches to documentary photography are endless. It’s a great opportunity to experiment with ideas, even if they might fail at first. I find work that challenges traditional perspectives to be far more engaging and informative, and that’s the direction I would like to take.

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

In the last two years, the pandemic has afflicted the world; even the cultural sector has been heavily affected by closures, restrictions, and impediments to confrontation and dialogue. New modalities have arisen. What have you been up to in this period? And how has all this influenced your photography and your production?

RD: Things have slowed down for me. Instead of feeling anxious about the future, I’ve tried to be ok with allowing things to run their course. I used the time to find new hobbies, be with family and friends, and re-examine my own interests in photography. My practice tends to be based on a lot of research, so having downtime to think and read has been helpful. I also recently started a new position as a professor and moved to a different city. So all these changes will undoubtedly have an impact on my future work. I can’t say for sure what direction that will be, but if I learned anything from Oman, it’s that uncertainty can be a good thing.

Let's talk now about the project behind your latest publication. Why in Oman? What drove you so far? And first of all, what kind of country did you meet? What struck you about this region?

RD: I have family that has been living in the Gulf for over a decade now, so that has allowed me to spend quite a bit of time there through the years. I would often travel to Oman for weekend trips whenever visiting the UAE. Oman has always drawn me in with its otherworldly landscape, remoteness, and slower pace of life than Dubai. I wasn’t aware of any recent photography projects about Oman, so the idea of doing one intrigued me. Oman was modernizing at a slower pace than neighboring countries in the region. Everything happening there was totally off the radar. The sense of isolation one could experience outside of urban areas felt like few other places I have visited. I knew I wanted to make work there given the chance, and when I received a Fulbright fellowship I was excited to get that opportunity.

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

If I look at the map, the Sultanate of Oman faces another country, Yemen, in terrible conditions since 2015. A negative spot that stains the spring of the Arab peninsula fueled by the oil economy and natural gas. What have you understood about the precarious equilibrium of the regions during your stay?

RD: Oman is geographically located in a volatile region but has a history of remaining neutral. This explains why it’s often called the Switzerland of the Middle East. As a result, Oman served as the location for the backchannel negotiations between the US and Iran before the signing of the 2015 Iran Nuclear Deal. I was also living in Oman when the US Secretary of State, John Kerry, visited the country for talks to end the Yemeni conflict. These meetings were conducted in Oman due to the Sultanate’s decision to stay out of regional conflicts and function primarily as a mediator. Despite its location, Oman has been able to maintain this stability and keep a low profile. Oman may be able to balance this equilibrium due to its vast reserves of oil and natural gas. Having to diversify its economy as a result of the world weaning off of fossil fuels may challenge Oman’s neutrality as it looks to bring in foreign investors and strengthen international relationships.

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

The project focuses on the workforce and the weakness and temporariness of relationships. A sort of invisible labor army from East Africa and the Indian subcontinent. What are the difficulties you have encountered in approaching these people? And how did you read up on this issue?

RD: LIKE was not planned in any way. My initial project idea was more closely related to my previous work in São Paulo and Dubai; it was centered around themes of architecture and urbanism. Due to some logistical issues, I had to abandon it. I lived by the coast in Muscat and took daily walks on the beach to pass the time. That is where I first encountered these men. I mostly observed from a distance. I didn’t have the immense weight of the subject matter in the back of my mind, and that freed me to approach them differently. Even after getting to know everyone, I wasn’t focused on making work specifically about them. We developed a mutual curiosity and friendship from the start, and over time ultimately led to the work you see in LIKE. There has been a lot of documentary work made about migrant labor; I had no desire to follow the traditional cliches. The dialogue we shared informed the work more than any outside media influence.

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

Your portraits show a degree of empathy that goes beyond opportunistic photography. There is a kind of complicity between the workers. They look almost like models who enjoy posing. What is the ratio behind this choice?

RD: One of the first things I noticed on the beach was that everybody was using smartphones. They were an essential link to friends and family thousands of miles away. When looking at this in the context of migrant labor, I think it’s fair to say this technology has had a profound effect on the experience of laborers living abroad. I was very much inspired by watching them pose for selfies and group photos on the beach. These snapshots felt really important because it’s how they depicted aspects of their lives in Oman to everyone back home. When I first started taking their portraits, I sent them the images through WhatsApp. WhatsApp became one of our primary means of communication during the week. They used the photographs for profile pictures or sent them to loved ones. Sometimes they would even edit the images themselves and send them back to me. I let them take the lead when it came to posing; a lot of it was spontaneous. As time passed, I became more accepted in the group, and they welcomed me into more intimate activities such as wrestling games, cricket matches, etc. I just kind of rolled with it and let the aesthetic come out instinctively.

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

The liveliness and natural ease of the portraits intersect with often giant visions of the landscape, and new settlements bordering on the absurd. These are the real estate speculations we know. All this produces a scenography that appears cold and useless by contrast. Can you comment on this? Is Oman another bubble?

RD: Even though Muscat was experiencing a ton of growth during the period I lived there, it was nothing like Dubai or Doha. Oman felt like a significant contrast; it was a place still very much rooted in its traditional culture and history. Obviously, the impact of oil wealth is hard to resist and development is an unavoidable by-product. Outside of Muscat, the extent of modernization was remarkably apparent. Massive multi-lane freeways sprung up in the middle of the desert. Desolate mountain passes were carved out for roads. Large-scale infrastructure projects seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Driving around the interior of the country felt both odd and fascinating. The natural landscape in Oman is beautiful, and yet I also found the concrete, artificial structures to be equally beautiful in a different way. I’m sure many of the projects I passed have now been completed, so I’d love to see how the landscape has changed around them. It’s hard not to wonder if some sites have remained unfinished or underutilized. Considering what has been going on in the world over the last few years, sustaining such an accelerated pace of modernization seems unlikely. I don’t know if Oman is a bubble, but the region will face challenges in the future if the world’s energy consumption habits continue to trend in the opposite direction.

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

© Ryan Debolsk from the series 'LIKE'

What difficulties have you encountered in getting people's trust? Have you ever felt that this type of photographic work could somehow empower them?

RD: I’m an introvert, so I generally find photographing people fairly challenging. There was a lot of nervousness to start, but maybe the initial awkwardness helped break the ice. Sincerity is probably the best path to gaining trust from strangers. Like I mentioned before, I didn’t intend to photograph these men or make a book. Our social interaction together was genuine, without any sort of expectations involved. Things, of course, developed rather slowly from there. This project could have only happened as a result of living in a place for an extended period of time. I was fortunate to get that chance and am grateful for the friendships I made. It was essential to reflect this experience in the book as much as possible. I like the idea of making work that can empower someone. I can’t speak for them, but I would hope that this body of work could somehow have that effect.

Finally, the book. What are the main criteria that guided the editing and design phase?

RD: Working with Jason Koxvold (designer and publisher) was a big part of the process. I had way too much work to sift through myself. My eyes hurt from staring at it for years, and I found myself incapable of making sense of it all on my own. An extra set of eyes and a fresh perspective guided the book through its development. I had initially collaborated with another designer who helped lay the groundwork. Jason then took that structure, refined it, and made it sing. When I saw his concept, I immediately knew that it felt right. However, there were still puzzles to solve. We knew the WhatsApp text was integral to telling the complete story, so that became the most challenging aspect. We needed to find the appropriate way to integrate imagery with text to best complement each other without overpowering one another. The size and touch of the book were especially considered; every detail had to feel deliberate. I think the book succeeded beyond my expectations and couldn’t be happier with the final result.

© Still  image of Ryan Deboski's book 'LIKE', Gnomic Book, 2020

© Still  image of Ryan Deboski's book 'LIKE', Gnomic Book, 2020

© Still  image of Ryan Deboski's book 'LIKE', Gnomic Book, 2020

© Still  image of Ryan Deboski's book 'LIKE', Gnomic Book, 2020

© Still  image of Ryan Deboski's book 'LIKE', Gnomic Book, 2020

© Still  image of Ryan Deboski's book 'LIKE', Gnomic Book, 2020

© Still  image of Ryan Deboski's book 'LIKE', Gnomic Book, 2020

How important in the publication is Jason Koxvold's writing entitled 'Raw Material: Capital and Exploitation at the Neoliberal Frontier,' which lays out the work in the context of the history of representation of labor in art?

RD: Jason is one of the smartest and most articulate people I know, so I was delighted when he offered to write an essay for the book. He has also spent considerable time in the Middle East working on projects. Being familiar with the region gave him a lot of experiences and material to draw from. He made some really thought-provoking observations that even led me to reconsider my practice. I enjoy the way he sees the world and how he can connect ideas with issues in contemporary photography. His addition to the book does a fantastic job of contextualizing the project in a broader sense. The narrative in LIKE is subtle and maybe a little enigmatic, having a piece like this is extremely important.

Ryan Debolski (website)
'LIKE', Gnomic Book 2020