Ep 003: Brad Ogbonna
A SHOT: To start, can you describe this photo that you picked?
BRAD OGBONNA: Cool, yeah, so this photo was taken last November, mid-November, in Lomé, Togo. I was just finishing up a project I was doing out there, and I had a little bit of free time to meander around and try to grab a couple photographs or do something before I caught a flight. I figured I’d go check out the beachfront because I hadn’t really spent much time on the beach while I was there. So I was kind of just walking along the beach with my friend Kylie, my assistant. We were taking photos. I was approached by this guy. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what he was, but it turned out he was, more or less, a street preacher. He told me to follow along with him, so I follow along with him to a group of kids who were playing in the water, just having a really gorgeous beach day. He then began preaching, and naturally, all these kids started congregating around him and listening to his preaching and praying alongside him, so it became this church right on the water.
I was really fortunate to have been invited into something so intimate, and I was able to get in close and get photographs. They speak French, so it was difficult to understand what he was preaching about, but I imagine… Me, I grew up in a church, so I can imagine stuff about repenting and what not. But, yeah, it was just a really special moment, which lasted only about 30, 40 minutes. And I went straight from there to the airport to get back to New York. That was my last memory of being in Togo.
Is that usually how it works when you’re walking around with your camera somewhere? Do people recognize that you’re a photographer and invite you in?
Yeah, that’s usually the thing. I feel like I am, for the most part, kind of disarming, and most of the time, when I have my camera, people are naturally inclined to either invite me in or speak to me when I ask questions. It becomes an entryway, I feel like. So people oftentimes will see me and invite me along to whatever they’re doing.
How important do you think their awareness of you is? Like, you could look at this photo on its own and assume that you’re just an observer, that you hadn’t been invited in. But what does it add that they know that you’re there?
I feel like it was a respect, a mutual respect that they were giving to me. The kids, I had never met these kids before, and I had never met that man. But just the openness that they showed me… Whereas, if this was something they were doing on their own, and I didn’t have that kind of invitation, I don’t think I would have approached them. I’m not really a street photographer, in that way. I usually always get consent with the photos I take, unless it’s something far away. I do dabble in street photography, but if I can get that in, get that invitation, that allows me to approach it in a way different manner. You can get way more intimate and tell a different story, versus trying to steal a shot real quick.
Do you think it’s just that you feel more comfortable working that way?
Personally, yeah, I feel that way. I feel like there are a lot of other street photographers who… You know, I’m a big fan of that style of photography, and I think it works really well for them. But I am somebody who likes to have that connection with my subject normally. If I’m able to, I will always go with that option to build it so I can give some sort of something back, in a sense. A lot of times when I take photos like these, I will carry along a Polaroid, a Fuji whatever you call those things, those wide shot Fuji Polaroids. Instax! And I will usually take those and take photos and hand them back to the people I’m shooting, just so it’s not necessarily a monetary exchange but it’s some sort of exchange happening, so it’s not a situation where I can’t share these images with them.
So what’s your setup for taking a photo like this?
This one, I was shooting with my Mamiya 645. That’s usually my travel camera that I lug around. It is very mobile. It’s an autofocus camera. I usually shoot with what is considered a 50mm lens, sometimes a 35. I more or less just shoot on an auto mode with that camera, and I’m not spending time figuring out lighting. I’m kind of just grabbing whatever’s available. I’ve used it for so many years. I know where to meter to get the kind of shot that I’m looking for. So yeah, that’s usually my setup. It’s something where I can shoot quick. These moments are often fleeting. So it’s something where it allows me to move a lot faster than say if I was shooting with my [Mamiya] RZ or something else.
When you’re walking around, what are you looking for?
I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m looking for anything, per se. It’s more or less whatever catches my eye. Things always kind of present themselves to me no matter where I go. Maybe I might see something that seems slightly out of the ordinary, and I focus on that. But I never really set out necessarily to create an image. People always like to say they make a photograph. I never really say that. I take a photograph. I saw something there, and I took it.
What is the difference between those two to you?
Oftentimes when people say they made a photograph, they’re acknowledging the fact that they created the things that are within that image. They set it up in a certain way. So it’s that ownership that they like to take. But I feel like the world, it’s such a beautiful place, so I’m not doing much to create anything as far as that. I’m just taking, like, a snapshot. I’m taking a photo from that moment. That’s really my approach. There are images sometimes that I helped along the way, but at the end of the day, things really just present themselves to me.
When you’re taking photos in a situation like this, what concerns do you have?
I wouldn’t say that I think about the concerns that I have. My biggest thing — and it’s not that I even think about it at this point anymore — is shooting things that people will be happy to be a part of and that nobody’s going to feel taken advantage of. I try to just show what was there and the natural beauty that I saw initially that drove me in. But yeah, I guess the one thing I’m always trying to do is make sure people are comfortable and that I’m not taking advantage of anybody when I’m shooting.
So you could have easily shot this photo wider, given more context to the photo, maybe shown more of the children who are cut off along the edges. How important is the physical closeness that you have to your subjects to this image?
I think, for me, there were a couple images where I did shoot it wider. It does give a full picture, but I thought there was something special about the framing going around the center of the kid who’s praying, who’s kneeling down in the sand, hands down, praying. Just the way he was praying, I thought that was really interesting. And everybody just seems to be doing something slightly different. What surprised me was that they were all very much participating in this, or were praying, because moments ago they were playing soccer on the beach. But the moment the preacher started, they dropped everything, and they were full on in church mode, which I thought was really interesting. You know, I don’t know this guy’s relationship to these kids. But they all seemed very comfortable with him. And all the kids seemed super attentive and were paying attention. And the guy seemed like he was genuinely there to teach and help.
So I sent you a handful of my favorite of your photos for this. Why did you pick this one?
It was just such a special time, and Togo was a very special country. I didn’t get to spend a ton of time there, and I don’t personally know when I will even make it back there. But I will always have this moment in Togo that stuck out to me, versus something that I could recreate in Senegal or Nigeria, in Zanzibar, somewhere else. This one felt very much like a special moment.
Is there anything distinctive that you remember about Togo that you liked about it?
The people were really nice. I was there for a project involving some pretty influential people within the community in Togo. So it was interesting to see their connection to France and former colonial powers and how it’s translated to where they are currently within the political landscape there. I was also there for a museum opening, so it was interesting to see modern contemporary art in an African setting versus seeing it at the [Museum of Modern Art] or at the [Metropolitan Museum of Art] where the perspective is way different. It was a really nice moment to be a part of that. It was a big celebration to open up the museum. People were dancing. A lot of food, drinks. It was just such a celebration, and I thought that was a really special moment and something to be a part of. It’s not often they have museums opening of that scale in Africa.
One detail that I really like about this image is that you can feel how hot it is just by looking at it. You have not only the kids in their swim shorts, you can also see the sweat on the backs of their necks. What do you think those details add to this image?
I didn’t even think about that, honestly. It’s second nature to me because I’ve spent a lot of time in West Africa. It’s always gonna be hot. I’m always gonna be sweaty. It’s kind of just that unspoken agreement that everybody shares that we’re all hot. We’re all in this together. So it doesn’t matter if you’re on the beach or you’re in a suit. Everybody’s always sweating in these parts of West Africa. So I barely even think about it at this moment. Every picture that I have of me when I’m overseas in that part of the world…sweat, beading down my face. It’s just a rite of passage at that point.
So an obvious element of this image is that the faces are almost fully obscured by dark shadow. What do you like about that specifically here with this image?
It’s really interesting just exploiting the deep blacks. There’s so much variance in skin color and just the contrast. And yeah, I think there’s also kind of a mystery to it, just not being able to see these kids’ faces. It’s an interesting way to approach this kind of photography, especially dealing with kids. It can often go a different direction depending on who’s taking the photograph. I feel like I was able to give them a little bit of their own anonymity, I guess. And still kind of be mysterious and unknown. Yeah, there were a few images I played around with where I was just metering for the skin so the shadows were going to be really dark. It really worked out perfectly the way I was looking for it.
I think that you often have this theme of obscured faces in your portraits. I know there’s I believe it’s an image of your mom, in which the shadow of her hat is covering part of her face, and there are quite a few others. Why do you think you’re drawn to this sort of image?
That’s tough. I don’t know. I’ve always liked shooting in full sun and the way the shadows are cast and trying to exploit that a little bit. If I could shoot out in the sun every day, I would. But especially working with black people as subjects and talent, I can get so much more with natural light, with skin tones and…
Why do you think that is?
Just the way black skin and melanin, the sun reflects off of it, gives it a deeper contrast. Shadows are a little bit darker. Especially shooting with film, there’s just so much variance in color that you’re able to pick out from an image, so I think that’s really special. When I started my photo career, around the same time I started traveling overseas a lot more, to Nigeria and West Africa. Prior to that, I grew up in Minnesota. Taking photos out there my subjects looked a lot different than they do currently. So yeah, as I learn and get more comfortable with my style, I feel like I’ve naturally gravitated toward shooting more people that look like me. That’s been the approach.
As photographers, we often feel pressure to take, like, a technically pristine photo. And for the most part, if a person’s face is in a photo that would mean that you at least need to see some of the face. But as with this photo, we also have the ability to make decisions not to play by those rules, and I like that you said you were metering for this intention. How much of that freedom do you like embracing in your work, playing with things that someone might consider wrong in a photo or incorrect?
That kind of marks my whole approach to photography. I never had any formal training. I didn’t take any classes. I guess I had a class my junior year of high school, but I don’t remember anything. I don’t think I did well. So I never really understood, like, the rule of thirds or composition the way people were probably taught. So my approach is just doing what I think makes a good image, not necessarily what the rules tell me, kinda just playing off that, getting weird angles. I guess some of it does work for the traditional standards of what makes a good photograph, but I feel like those rules also evolve.
I’m kind of the least technical person when it comes to photography. I don’t necessarily love even talking about anything technical when it comes to photography. I have a system that works for me. It’s my tried-and-true system that I’ve developed over time. But I feel like there are so many different ways to approach photography, and it’s been so cool to see everyone else’s approach to it, to see the way it’s evolved, the overlap, the different techniques people develop over time. It’s tough. When people ask me certain things about images, sometimes it’s hard to explain how I got there because it’s so far from a technical approach. It’s something I can only just physically do.
Do you think you had to become comfortable working like that?
No, I feel like it’s the only way I knew. When I first started out, I assisted for a while, and I’ve worked with other photographers. I’ve seen how other people work, what their approach was. Sometimes I’d try applying that to my own way of shooting, and I always kind of went back to just how I shot when I first started out. Same camera and everything. I feel like that’s where my work speaks the most, when I stick to the style I’ve developed over time.
So not being able to see someone’s face in an image means that you often need to use body to convey expression. How do you do that here?
How they did it there. They were so deep in prayer, so being able just to capture that moment where it seems like they’re giving thanks in a deep almost trance-like stage, which resonated with me because I’ve spent a lot of time in church… I probably didn’t have that same kind of commitment to prayer. So it was really interesting to see them take it so seriously and be so involved. It is a very intimate moment. You’re eyes closed, out in the world. I really, for the most part, had only seen people approach praying or religion in this way indoors, so for it to be outside, that was very special and kind of a different way of approaching it.
Is there vulnerability in this image?
Yeah, definitely. To be praying, to be outside, you’re very vulnerable. That’s probably a big reason why I never really took church and that so seriously because I didn’t want to be vulnerable around other people like that.
What do you think we can learn about these kids from this photo?
That they’re committed. They’re religious. But at the same time, you can tell they’re kids. You can tell that they’re out having fun. They have their little shorts. They have their soccer jerseys. They’re typical kids. It’s tough to tell just from this one picture, but it shows a level of discipline that you don’t often see sometimes with kids in the Western world.
How important are hands to this photo?
I think it’s a big element. Hands are so important in Christianity, in general. We pray; we put our hands together. We praise; we put our hands out. We ask for forgiveness; we show our hands. It’s a podcast; you can’t really act it out. But yeah, your hands are so important when it comes to Christianity. Even covering your face, that says something in Christianity a lot of the time.
I might have a different feeling about this because I wasn’t there, and you watched the scene unfold in front of you, so you have your associations with it, and you have the other images that are part of this series that help build the mood. But from this image on its own, I get a bit of melancholy. Especially from the boy whose hand is over his face, which is a gesture that can be associated with suffering or struggle. And then you have the bowed necks, which could imply, like, a feeling of exhaustion or resignation. Do those moods play into this image at all?
Yeah, definitely. There’s a big melancholic attitude, which naturally comes to Christianity because a big part of the religion is this humility, this melancholy that you carry with you because somebody died for your sins. The West African brand of religion and Christianity is often a lot less happy, a lot more guilt-driven, a lot more what could feel like sad or angry. So these being kids and hearing somebody pray for them or all that, you know there’s definitely melancholy that is a part of this image, for sure.
There’s so much of your work that explores elements of joy, particularly in your portraiture. Where does this fit along that?
It exists right next to it. With suffering, there’s also joy. It’s a full balance. I feel like I tend to focus on the joy and the happy, but with that there’s also the other side of that, which is the suffering, the melancholy, those feelings of negative. But it’s all within a full spectrum of the human experience. That’s life.
A lot of travel photography can be defined by: This is something different than what I see every day. And there’s a bit of that in your work, but I don’t think this photo is that. This could be Coney Island, you know what I mean?
Oh yeah, definitely.
Did you see that when you look at it?
It’s tough to remove it from my own context because I have such visceral emotions when I see this image. But this image could still be the same image if it were taken in Coney Island or… I mean, it’s tough for me because I know what kids look like there versus that. But you know, if these were shot on the beach of Alabama with white children, it would definitely hold a different significance, but it’s not so dissimilar.
Who’s this photo for?
If I’m putting work on my Web site or my Instagram, at that point it’s for the world. It’s whoever is interested in it. I don’t create work for any one audience.
How much of it is for yourself?
Oh, a big part of it is for myself. I just love to document. I take so many photos a day, and it’s a special thing for me to be able to take out my actual camera that I use for work and be able to turn it on the world and keep these things as personal memories because, you know, these are my personal work and my images, but at the same time, it’s my diary. I don’t write much, but I take a lot of photos. And this is the stuff I will often look back on the days when I’m not feeling so motivated. Or if I find myself at a computer thinking about something, I’ll just pull up a hard drive where the photos live, and I’ll relive that day, retrace my steps. So in a lot of ways, it’s for myself.
What about this photo feels familiar?
I think everything feels familiar. The color of the skin. The jersey. The outfits. The religious aspect of it. Being at the beach. All of it, yeah, feels very familiar.
How so?
It feels like my life. I feel like I spend any moment I have being by the water, being around people, being a black person, being an African person. It’s all-encompassing. I feel like those are all things. There’s just so much overlap with my own life. The religious aspect of it, which I’m not necessarily super religious, but I’m adjacent to it. My family’s still part of it, religion. It just plays into my own life, so I feel like there’s a lot of overlap.
Where can I see the Minnesota in this?
Nah, it’s not there.
At all?
Nah.
I mean, you as the creator are part of this image, you know what I mean?
If anything, perhaps, the approach, the gentleness. I wouldn’t see this image and immediately assume Minnesota, but Minnesota definitely shaped me as a person in how I approach the world. Oftentimes, I don’t know if it’s Minnesota or just me or whatever, but my demeanor, it’s calm. Yeah, I feel like when people see me, nobody really feels that threatened by my presence too often. So it allows me to get into very intimate situations very quickly. So yeah, in that regard, there is a little bit of Minnesota present.
Being from the midwest, I instantly recognize your feelings of needing to be invited into a space in order to feel comfortable taking pictures there.
For sure. And then, yeah, I guess maybe on that same note, maybe it’s a curiousness. Minnesota, we weren’t around these situations so often so when we do go out into the world, so much of it looks interesting. The way Gordon Parks approaches photography — I count him as a Minnesotan because he grew up there — just that wide-eyed approach to the world and just document everything because it looks so much different than Minnesota outside of Minnesota.
What do you think about being from Minnesota gives you that curiosity?
When you’re coming from a place like Minnesota, it can often feel pretty homogenous. The moment you step outside, you realize how different the world looks. Minnesota is often known as a really white place. I was fortunate to have grown up in the Twin Cities and surrounded by a really vibrant and interesting mix of people, but at the same time, the numbers were so small in comparison to, like, stepping out to a place like New York or Togo. It just feels so different. And I’m oftentimes curious about other places coming from a place that can kind of look the same.
In the New York Times piece that featured your self-portraits, you said that this year you’ve found yourself searching for space. Does any of that theme appear in this photo?
Yeah, I feel like it is. The space to do certain things, to be vulnerable, to find peace, to have joy. So I feel like they definitely relate in that sense. Yeah, when we see images of black people, I don’t think we often see the vulnerable, the vulnerability of them, so I feel like there’s that definite connection for sure. You said you saw some melancholy in it, which I also agree. I do see that. But at the same time, who can be mad in the sun? Who can be mad at the beach? So there’s definitely that joy attached to it, too. They’re definitely connected.
What do you think Brad 10 years ago would have to say about this photo?
Man, honestly, I’m the same person I was 10 years ago when it comes to certain things. I look back at some of the stuff I shot 10 years ago, and it’s not that far different than what I’m shooting now. It’s just a style I’ve always kind of had. I put out a book called Jisike back in 2012, so I’m almost reaching that 10-year point, and that book was spent photographing Nigeria after my dad passed away. So if you were to take these photos and put them side by side, you would see a lot of overlap. I’m a little more structurally better as a photographer and structurally sound, but the intention and the mood is pretty much the same.
What do you think you’ve learned that’s given you the instinct to take a photo like this?
Just to be confident with my approach. Yeah, essentially just to be confident. To approach people. To remember, at the end of the day, that things may feel uncomfortable at that moment, but the joy you feel afterward when you have something that’s special, that feels timeless, you walk away from it, where you don’t even think about what it took to get there. A lot of times 10 years ago, I maybe would not have approached somebody because I had a little fear of rejection, fear that they would just say no, fear of causing a ruckus or stepping on somebody’s toes or making somebody feel uncomfortable. Now my approach is different. It’s gonna be a little more open with my intention and confident in my approach, where people can just see right away that I come in peace.
But you still feel a level of uncomfortableness in some way?
There are moments where I may just be like, “No, this isn’t the right mood.” I can just pick up on the mood of what I’m shooting, maybe not the right timing, not the right crowd. I luckily have gone across the world and haven’t been told “no” too many times. And I feel a lot of that is being able to read a room. Pick up on the mood. Yeah, that’s really it.
How does it feel to review your work in this way?
It’s different. It’s interesting. I don’t really talk about my work too often outside of a meeting. I don’t even really do long captions on Instagram. Once I put it out into the world, it’s just there. Occasionally people may ask me a question to understand the context, but I don’t really give that much information with my work. As I move into another stage of my career, when I start focusing more on fine art, I will be forced to talk about my work in a much more concise way.
Yeah, I do think it’s an important exercise to figure out what we actually really like about the work we make.
Yeah, and I feel like, where the state of the industry is now — where it’s dominated by Instagram, it’s dominated by likes — I’m somebody who, it’s hard for me just to post three images a post or, like, one image per post or something like that. I often [post many images at once] because I feel like I have so much to tell you guys. And this is my way of telling the story versus me having to write up a caption. It’s a different way to approach photography, whereas images were a little more precious back then, much tighter edits because they didn’t have anywhere else to show people work aside from a book, a newspaper, a gallery. You may get one image from a set, but… Sometimes back then they would get a contact sheet or something like that, but that’s not something they often showed people. And now we can just show people multiple images. It can be kind of tough because there’s so much good work out there. There are so many good photographers doing really interesting stuff. You post this really beautiful image, and two days later it’s on to the next thing, on to the next cover, on to the next image. It’s nice to be able to slow down. I’m really excited for my next stage of my career where I do focus more on the fine art, where I start printing photos and pull some of my favorites from work in the past and give it a new life.
I think a lot of photographers work in a way where they consider their work so much that the freeing element then becomes, “Well, I just wanted to make something that didn’t seem so precious.” But you’re actually kind of working in a reverse direction. Do you think your work is going to change because of that?
No, I don’t think it’s going to change. I am somebody who likes to share a lot. I post a lot of stories on my Instagram. I take so many photos. I’m just naturally inclined. It’s always been my thing. I just like to document. But it has been interesting to sit down with somebody else. Like my agent who I’ve been working with, he has a history of helping edit books. To be able to sit with him and remove an image from a larger set of images and be like, “Okay, I really like this one. Let’s focus on this. Let’s build this narrative. Let’s build this story,” which is a whole different kind of approach than what I’m used to.
And I think some of that is just about taking yourself more seriously as an artist.
Yeah, definitely. I feel like I was fortunate where I had that epiphany a few years back. It changed my approach to it because I’m not just some camera operator. I think I’m a storyteller, a documentarian. But then sometimes I am a camera operator, when I’m doing jobs. I show up, click a button, because you gotta survive. But when I’m working with stuff that is my own, that feels precious, then yeah, I feel like I have to be way more intentional with my approach. So it’s not just like I’m just taking photos at the end of the day. I feel like I’m creating a visual diary. I am carrying the baton for the photographers that came before me, documenting the world in a way that they did. It’s a visual language, and I’m keeping a tradition. That’s kind of how I see it. I’m very fortunate where I now have been able to create a career out of it, but even if I wasn’t making money off of it, I’d probably still be doing it. That’s what brings me joy. When I travel, I don’t necessarily travel too often to go on vacation just for the pure sake of going on vacation. I always kind of think about what kind of images I can get out of going to this place.
To close the conversation, what’s something unrelated to photography that’s been feeding you creatively lately?
Food. Movies. I watch a ton of movies. I cook when I can. Been trying to read more. Driving. Driving a lot. Getting out there, into the world.
How’s driving feeding you?
Aw, man, so much. It’s a really freeing practice where I am now in control of my movement versus being in the back of an Uber. Being in a train, a conductor is conducting the show. It’s interesting: Look up a place upstate, and there’s like six different ways to get there. So it’s just kind of that freedom. And along the way, you’re going to see something cool, and you’ll stop. A lot of times I’ll just have my camera almost in the seatbelt right next to me in the passenger seat. I take it along with me and just take photos.
Interviewed on October 30, 2020.
(This transcript has been edited for brevity.)
Links:
Brad Ogbonna
Brad’s photos from Lomé, Togo
The New York Times: “Sources of Self-Regard”
The Gordon Parks Foundation Photography Archive