THE ONES TO WATCH
With a focus on flashbacks to simpler times, Deborah shares with us what it was like growing up and Northern Ireland and her evolving relationship with her brother. Using nature as her drop back she brings us on an adventure through the woods where images of distorted colours and shapes highlight natures darker and abstract face. Deborah expertly mixes her childhood sense of adventure and her wise outlook on life to create the “Remember When” collection.
NM: Where is Northern Ireland did you shoot? How has growing up there impacted your artistic style?
DB: I did this shoot in a village in Northern Ireland called Killyleagh. There is a beautiful country park where I took this series of photos. I think growing up in Northern Ireland has influenced me to take advantage of using outdoor space for shoots. Northern Ireland is full of really cool country parks and beaches which feature heavily in the back...
Alexey Dubinsky gets personal with Aserica and shares his technique and passions when it comes to photography. Between colour and black and white or portrait and landscapes; Alexey has a talent of transporting us to far and nature rich places or right in the room of unique and stunning women.
NM: You have an extensive portfolio in black and white and in colour. What are some factors that help you to decide to shoot in black or white or colour? In your portfolio on your website, most if not all of your black and white images are portraits. Is that intentional?
AD: Actually, I can’t confirm that I have more black and white portraits than landscapes. It usually depends on colour and its presence or not. Sometimes when I’m tired of colour and its complexity. So I prefer black and white for its simpleness in showing objects or scenery as they are.
NM: Most of your models are female. Why is this? Do you prefer shooting...
After she left the city, it took a while before I stopped watching for her everywhere, before I got used to the fact that afternoons had lost their shape, and before I could look at books and open them without asking myself whether they were suitable for reading aloud. It took a while before my body stopped yearning for hers; sometimes I myself was aware of my arms and legs groping for her in my sleep, and my brother reported more than once at table that I had called out “Hanna” in the night. I can also remember classes at school when I did nothing but dream of her, think of her. The feeling of guilt that had tortured me in the first weeks gradually faded. I avoided her building, took other routes, and six months later my family moved to another part of town. It wasn’t that I for got Hanna. But at a certain point the memory of her stopped accompanying me wherever I went. She stayed behind, the way a city stays behind as a train...
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