Interview #11: Riley Schmidt (2020)
Riley Schmidt is a young Australian photographer and aspiring writer who studies criminology in Tasmania. While his often subtle and blurry imagery hints at a kind of distant poetry, he has recently gone on hiatus to undertake a trip around the country in search of more grounding experiences. Here’s our interview with him.
MS／What’s your background in life? How have you been acquainted with photography and what has been your relation to it?
RS／Hello, my name is Riley. I am 26 years old and I currently live in Hawkesbury (New South Wales), although I was born in Hobart (Tasmania). I have spent the vast majority of my life living in Hobart — which is a small harbour town hosting approximately 200,000 people.
I got into photography 10 years ago, simply through learning to take photos with my phone. Before photography, I studied art throughout my high-school years — but never found solace through drawing and other mediums. I think that I appreciated photography because I could convey more easily the ideas in my head, and did not have to rely on my sloppy drawing skills.
I am currently finishing a combined degree in both sociology and criminology (online) at the University of Tasmania. Here, I get to learn about things that interest me, such as: indigenous health, juvenile justice systems and the social/cultural make up of our society. While I seek to find work in government areas, I would hope that I continue to take photos in the future.
Something so subtle is routinely overlooked.
Alike a drop in the ocean, its voice goes unheard.
All this noise; a moment of pure clarity.
MS／I would love to hear more about life in Hobart and how criminology influences your photography and vice versa. What role does photography play in your life and what are you trying to convey through it?
RS／I think that there is definitely an element of social commentary within my work. I feel as though when I am looking through the gaze of the camera lens, I often see things that others do not. I take advantage of every day happenings; those things that in many cases go overlooked.
I use elements of blur or distortion often in my work. I liken it to an old impressionist painting or something; it is reality, but through a different lens. I am trying to tell a story, whether that be positive or negative.
For as long as I have been taking photos, I have also suffered from depression. I think that I use photography as an outlet for this; when I am taking photos, I feel at peace within myself.
Hobart, being such a small town, has made me grow up in a place where there has not been the same level of competition for art or work as with a bigger city. I think that moving to Sydney has been a positive driver for promoting my work and making me work harder to become a better artist.
MS／Is it in Sydney that the word “mutterings” began to stick to your work? What is the backstory behind that name? There’s definitely poetry in the word, and its calligraphy resonates with the emotions and sincerity that transpire through your work. Are you a writer on the side as well?
RS／Mutterings did originate in Sydney. I wanted something to encapsulate how I feel about both my photography and words. To mutter something — it doesn’t all have to make sense. The words, the photo… it’s just me expressing how I feel at that moment in time. The words I say don’t have to directly correlate with the photograph; I leave it for the viewer to decide how they feel. Our interpretation of art should always remain subjective.
I am an aspiring writer. In a week from now, both my partner and I are setting off on a road trip around Australia. I hope to detail everything through photography and writing and, attempt to curate the draftings of a book. I have always wanted to write a book, and I would love to be able to incorporate both mediums harmoniously.
MS／I’ve noticed a shift in the nature of your pictures to something less abstract and more grounded in relatable life experiences. I assume this is related to your adventures in Australia. Is this correct? Can you explain the significance of this trip for you and how it incorporates in your photographic “narrative”?
RS／I’ve temporarily switched to portray more real-life photos, as I want to capture how I am feeling in the present moment. Artists shift and change their values across various mediums and styles. I figured, if I don’t want to see my abstract art right now, then neither would anybody else.
The trip has had immense significance. Both my partner and I have effectively moved our lives across the state, and shared a myriad of new and beautiful experiences. It has been a great challenge, but one that I cherish.
MS／Do you think [this trip] will alter the way you approach abstract photography in the future, if (or when) you get back to it?
RS／I think that time away from any passion can be seen as a good thing. Being able to see with a new perspective; seeing the greater world around me and what exactly it has to offer.
Every time I look through the camera lens though, it is like a form of meditation. My art style has changed so much over the years. I went from portraiture, to landscape, to macro, to abstract. Where my photography goes next, I honestly don’t know. But I do know that in time, I will pick the camera up again and find new inspiration.
Is the sky falling?
Amidst all this noise we can choose to listen.
What are they trying to tell us?
MS／Could you tell me a bit about your writing ambition is; what story do you want to tell, what is the inspiration? And what is the appeal of the written form as compared the images; how can photography complement that?
RS／Regarding writing, I have always enjoyed writing. As a relatively quiet individual, I find expressing myself through mediums of photography or writing to be more fluent than verbal communication. I stop, and stutter, and struggle to get my point across. Whereas with these alternative mediums, I have the time to convey my exact thoughts.
I think the marriage between photography and writing is simply beautiful. Art requires context; without it, we couldn’t truly understand the artist intentions. While writing may be perceived as less subjective to the counterpart of abstract photography, it does not have to be conveyed so literally. Alike my art, I like to keep my writing as ambiguous as possible. “Mutterings” for me means to murmur without direct correlation — in a way that remains riddled with creativity.
Tall trees tell tall tales.
Shadows hide their secrets; they are boundless in nature.
A colourless observation unmasks their true colours.
MS／So in that sense, you’re a firm believer that your art needs to be completed in the mind of the viewer to achieve its full potential. Ambiguity then becomes a tension which is resolved through engaging with the artwork. How have people reacted to what you’re doing, either around you, on internet or anywhere else? What kind of feedback to you get, and how does it help (or doesn’t) you in understanding your potential?
RS／For the most part, the reception has actually been just fine. I think realists understand that everything is temporary; neither life, passion nor love last forever. After all, we are just a drop in the ocean.
I often dislike the competitive nature of outlets such as Instagram. I got deterred from jogging every day because I was using an app to track my pace and compete my scores with others. The same goes for instagram. It is so easy to get caught up in all of the noise. When my body and mind tell me that I am ready to take DSLR photos again, I will.
Riley Schmidt is a young Australian photographer and aspiring writer who studies criminology in Tasmania. While his often subtle and blurry imagery hints at a kind of distant poetry, he has recently gone on hiatus to undertake a trip around the country in search of more grounding experiences.
Interviewed by M. Solav.
Here is an additional selection of pictures from Riley Schmidt.
