18- Aaron Hardin

When I was in college, I refused to call myself an artist or engage in artistic activities. It wasn’t that I was just outright saying, “I refuse!”, but my thought process and my actions reflected that. In my mind, other people were artists. I was preoccupied with my theology and philosophy degree and didn’t see how art fit into the mix. Deep in my soul, however, I longed to be considered an artist. I dressed how I saw other artists dress and at least tried to appreciate art. And at some point, I realized I wanted to do more than appreciate– I wanted to be an active participant. It took a while, but this was the beginning of my belief in my artist self.

 Aaron Hardin’s intro to photography reminded me of my time in college. He also discovered photography in school, which is when I discovered photography, and explored his future as a photographer. Aaron’s work is personal. His pictures really grip the viewer and tell a human story. His approach hits home for me, since photojournalism was also my entry into the world of art. There is something truly captivating about the magic that can emerge from real people in their everyday lives. Aaron is able to capture those moments of real-life magic and share it with others through his photography.

When did you first become interested in photography?

I first picked up a camera my senior year of college. I was studying video production and filmmaking at the time, so taking a photo class sounded fun. Little did I know it would change my whole life. I graduated college with just a four-week intro photo class under my belt and had to figure the rest out on my own.

What has your journey been like getting into photography?

I started out as a photojournalist, spending my early career at The Jackson Sun. But as I grew as a photographer, it became more and more apparent that I needed to make work outside of the confines of strict photojournalism. I went on to work as a freelance editorial photographer but continued to struggle to find my own voice as a storyteller. Just before I turned 30, I got into graduate school. That experience totally changed my life and my practice. It was the first time I realized that I was an artist. The pressure cooker of grad school helped me discover my voice as an artist.

Did you have a formal art education, and do you feel it is necessary in becoming a professional artist?

I have an MFA in photography from the Hartford Art School. While it definitely isn't necessary to go to graduate school to be a professional artist, Hartford was instrumental in my personal evolution. I think it is important to be able to critically reflect on your work, as well as others’ work. School can be a way, but also mentorship. I think there is a lot of room in our modern practices to be mentors or to be mentored. Traditionally, that is how you would learn a practice.

Is there anything in particular that you feel drawn to capture with photography? Why?

For about five years, I've grappled with my own familiar existence. Since becoming a father, I can't escape thinking about the world my daughters are a part of. We've gone through many joys and losses as a family, which always comes out in my work. Flannery O'Connor said, “Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days.” I think my work is processing much of my own childhood trauma as I watch my own girls grow up.

Are there any people in specific that have influenced your style or art?

The biggest influence on my work has been Robert Lyons, my graduate school mentor. He really helped me work through my own practice, as well as deeply impacting my own philosophy on photography. I adore the way he photographs people, both with respect and affection. Another huge influence is Trent Parke. He was the first photographer that I'd seen that pushed the narrative boundaries of photography. I'd believed up until that point that photographs were meant to be literal illustrations of the world. It was such a relief to realize that photographs, while poor at telling stories, functioned well by asking questions of the viewer.

How do you approach working on a new piece? 

I've learned to trust my intuition while making work during the changing seasons of life. I don't plan. Most of my work is just responding to situations in my own personal life. So I work more like a hunter or prospector. I roam around with a camera and shoot whatever feels right. Then after creating a pile of photos, I edit down and reflect on what the photographs are telling me. In many ways, I'm allowing my intuition, or rather my subconsciousness, take the driver's seat. I work in series of images rather than individual photographs. So each photograph helps me interpret connected photographs. In the end, they all come together as a book or zine.

Is there a specific technique that changed your workflow for the better?

There isn't any specific technique that stands out as important. I'm constantly learning new ways to explore different visual narratives. I think of each technique, camera, flash, etc. as just different voices. Each one, whether instant film or large format, aids in telling a particular story. But if I were to point to one practice that I do for every body of work, it would be to make small prints of the broader edit of photos. I spread them out of the floor or hang them on my wall, and sequence and edit down from there. It is almost impossible to edit and sequence photographs on a screen.

How do you find inspiration?

While I love discovering new photographic works, I think the best inspiration comes from non-art sources. Some are internal, but most are from life experiences, people I meet, societal situations, etc.. I think that we are integrated beings. There are no internal compartments. I am just as much an artist as I am a husband, father, teacher, community member, shade-tree mechanic, and lover of mindless action movies. All of these realities impact and influence the others. I don't think you can make art if you aren't participating in life.

What has been your biggest struggle as an artist? How did you overcome it?

Time and money. There is never enough time and money to do all that I would like to do. I have to work and pay bills. I am a family man (which I'm thankful for). And being an artist is expensive with little or no financial return. For example, to publish a photobook could easily cost between $10,000 and $25,000. And the most you could hope for is to break even. I remember my graduate school mentor telling me that only wealthy people could be artists. And there is a truth to that.

Do you have any art rituals?

As I get older, I've learned that I can't force work out. So I try to constantly remind myself to be patient and wait for the next inspiration or time to make work. I constantly struggle to feel like I'm not doing enough, or making enough work. The reality of my own mortality looms over me daily. For me, it is important to take a breath and have a little grace for myself.

What advice would you give to other artists?

Being an artist is such a mixed experience. You need to be both a listener and a shouter. You need to be humble but assertive. You need to be kind and bold. You need to embrace your richness while facing your poverty. And you have to work. WORK! There is no way to make good work unless you first make a huge mountain of work. There is no shortcut. There is only diligence. If you aren't willing to make a ton of bad work, receive countless rejections, and be receptive enough to make the work that captures the time we exist in, then you should find another path. I am an artist because it is the only thing that helps me cope with my existence. 

What themes do you see in your art?

Nature, childhood, magical realism

As an artist, do you feel you have a role to play in society?

I think the artist's role in society is to notice things that most people don't. And after noticing, translating them through form for society. I reject the idea that art is only for the most educated (as one might infer from postmodernism). I think that the best art allows the viewer to transcend their current reality and get a glimmer of the vast beauty and terror of existence. 

What is something that has really pushed you as an artist?

My own psychological health is probably the biggest motivator. I figured out that making work helps me cope with my own existence, both in immediate ways and in the hopes of leaving behind a legacy. So, maybe the fear of being dead and forgotten is the strongest motivator. 

Do you mind sharing tips for artists who are trying to grow their network or fan base?

Honestly, if you are hoping to grow your market, then you need to put yourself out there. If you are hoping to build more relationships to grow your craft, then you also have to put yourself out there. If you are waiting for your work to be perfect before sharing it with people, then you will never share your work. And if you are hoping someone will discover you, it will not happen. You have to introduce yourself and your work to both the gatekeepers and a larger audience. That means show up where things are happening, meet curators, meet other artists, email editors, ask for feedback from people that are further down the path than you, and be a kind person. You have to be both bold and humble to grow and build your audience. But however, you participate in the larger marketplace, it should fall in line with your own beliefs and convictions. At the end of the day, if you are sacrificing your creative convictions to appease a market, you are prostituting your art.

What are you currently working on? 

I just finished publishing my first book, The 13th Spring. So much of my attention over the past year has been getting the project finished. But I did shoot a smaller project over the summer and fall called Hide Me in the Honeysuckle Patch. I'm looking forward to transitioning my attentions to publishing that book in the coming months/years.

Do you have any resources to share?

There are a couple of books that I would highly recommend - Beauty in Photography by Robert Adams and The Shape of a Pocket by John Berger. Both were revelatory in considering my place in the world as an artist.

To learn more about Aaron, visit his website or visit his Instagram @aaronhardinphoto