Without Translation— A collection & conversation with Joshua Hurston

The conversation is included subsequent to the photography collection.

I have never known how to speak or read Japanese, nor have I experienced any semblance of Japanese culture firsthand. I've always wanted to change these facts. I finally got the opportunity to do so recently. The first thing that became clear to me about this country is the respect of it's residents. This respect does not need translation; throughout my trip I encountered a deep respect for nature, heritage, and principle. It was this quiet but unshakable reverence that moved me, and led me on a journey capturing the bridges that anchor these ideologies to the rhythms of everyday life.

I photographed the bridge between nature and architecture through structures carved into the form of the Hakone mountain range. I also found other buildings shaped into and out of their natural surroundings around the Kiyomizu-Dera.

In Nara, I encountered a bridge between animals and religion.The city's deer, regarded as sacred messengers of the gods, move freely among temples and streets. They are neither tamed nor distant; they exist in harmony with the city and its people.

However, by far the most striking connection I observed was the inseparable bridge between Japan's culture and its people. Embedded into almost every city, no matter how modern, there still remained an appreciation of the history and culture; this bridge was woven into the very fabric these places.

The Journal: What drives you to shoot with film rather than digital, and why did you bring a film camera on your trip to Japan instead of a digital one?

Joshua: It’s interesting, because I didn’t really start shooting film until I took my photography class. Back then, I just wanted to get as many pictures as I could. I was so excited about photography that I kept my camera on me at all times. Even now, outside of that class, I still keep film on me, because when I go through the process of developing and printing the photos, I’m almost reliving those moments again. The memories I capture with photography—especially film photography—I remember longer than almost anything else.

The Journal: So photography’s kind of woven into your life now?

Joshua: Yeah, absolutely. I have a camera with me all the time. I don’t just see it as a way to capture memories, but as a way to capture things I find interesting. Anything I see that catches my eye, I try to take a picture of. It’s like a way to snapshot that moment in my head forever.

The Journal: Do you think it can ever be a bad thing—wanting to document everything?

Joshua: Sometimes, yeah. If you’re too focused on taking photos all the time, you can lose the moment you’re in. I think it’s about finding that balance... taking the photos, but also just being there. I’ve realized there have been times where I lived behind the viewfinder, and even though I got great shots, I missed out on actually experiencing a lot.

The Journal: What specific film stock did you bring to Japan?

Joshua: I usually take Ilford HP5 with me, but traveling with film is always a hit or miss. The film from Japan definitely got messed up a bit going through the X-ray machine. They didn’t listen when I asked for a hand check. Sometimes the film’s really durable, sometimes it isn’t. Thankfully, on that trip, you couldn’t tell too much, but it’s almost part of the fun—there’s this excitement in not knowing if your pictures will come out. When one does come out perfectly, it feels like a gift.

The Journal: Can you talk more about your choice to shoot Japan in black and white?

Joshua: I’ve brought color film on a lot of trips, but this time, I guess I didn’t think too hard about it in the moment. It turned out to be important, though. A lot of what I captured wouldn’t have been as striking in color. Black and white strips out all the extra stuff. You’re seeing exactly what there is to see, just the light, the silhouette, the shadows. If it had been color, people might be focusing on the green of the trees or the blue of the mountains. Black and white forces you to focus on the image itself.

The Journal: Going to Japan, did you have certain shots you knew you wanted, or did you just go with the flow?

Joshua: I definitely went with the flow. I did some research before, and of course I was excited, but I didn’t really know what I was in for. I just went where I was taken and shot what called to me. Sure, I got Mount Fuji—how could you not—but honestly, that’s not even one of the strongest images from the trip. The shots I think are strongest are of things most people wouldn’t recognize right away. That way, people aren’t just saying, “Oh, that’s iconic," they’re looking at the deeper meaning of the photo.

The Journal: Your artist statement mentioned “bridges.” Can you talk about the purpose behind your work?

Joshua: I’ve always been interested in people and how we interact with our environments. That’s a big reason I also want to go into architecture. It’s not just about a pretty picture for me; I want to capture something that makes you feel something. In the Japan series, I wanted to show how in different cultures, people hold on to their traditions, and how those connections, those “bridges," are kept alive.

The Journal: What about outside this series. Are there any recurring themes or aesthetics in your work?

Joshua: Yeah, definitely. A lot of my art focuses on living spaces and people. I had a series where I built these miniature rooms inside cardboard boxes, and people could look in and see different living conditions. I’ve also done paintings where the texture and details represent how we interact with others. It’s something I come back to across mediums... like photography, painting, sculpture because it’s such a broad subject but can also be so personal and intimate.

The Journal: Do you look at other photographers’ work for inspiration?

Joshua: I mean I love the greats. Duane Michaels, Robert Mapplethorpe, they’re amazing. I try to be conscious about directly replicating others styles. I try not to ignore other work, but I also don’t take direct inspiration. I just let it sit in my head. If something I do happens to look like someone else’s work, I see it as more of an homage than a copy.

The Journal: Do you remember the first roll of film you shot?

Joshua: Yeah, only about two years ago. I never had a disposable camera as a kid. My first roll was me sharing a camera with someone and shooting still lifes of objects around my house. It’s kind of funny, because that’s how a lot of people start learning art: by drawing still lifes. Even though photography’s totally different, I started in a similar way.

The Journal: Some people don’t think of photography as much of an art form compared to painting or sculpture. What do you think?

Joshua: I completely disagree. Photography takes a different eye, a different kind of patience. Developing and printing in the darkroom, burning, dodging—it’s its own process. Sure, you can take more images in a shorter time compared to painting, but that doesn’t make it less valid. It’s like comparing walking to swimming. They’re both satisfying, just in different ways.

The Journal: After scanning, do you ever edit digitally?

Joshua: Yeah. I’m lucky to have access to a stocked darkroom, so I develop and print there, but I’ll also scan my negatives or prints to edit digitally. That said, I want to get to a point where I can take a photo and not have to edit it. There were photographers in the past who worked that way, and I respect that a lot.

The Journal: What’s your favorite camera you’ve used?

Joshua: My Canon Rebel film SLR. It’s not fancy, but it was my mom’s, so it’s special to me. I’d like to try out Leicas or Nikons, but I think it’s more about the person behind the camera than the camera itself.

The Journal: Do you have a dream place to photograph next?

Joshua: Yeah. Melbourne, Australia. I was born there but left when I was really young, so I don’t remember it. I want to go back and photograph the places I lived but never remembered.