Lens 2 Lens: Beyond The Photographic Style

Conversations with Susanne Helmert

July, 2025

Susanne: I went back to read your newsletter again, where you wrote a little bit about "style". I put the word "style" in quotation marks because I have a conflict with the word. Maybe it is because I am not a native speaker and I have a different interpretation of it, but I always think of fashion when I hear that word. 

Something that is in or out. It feels weird to use it in terms of art. You use it a lot in your essay - how do you feel about using that word?

Juliette: Now, we're talking etymology and I'm a linguist so you may be sorry you went down this route! 

The Latin origins of "style" come from the word, stilus — originally a pointed instrument used for writing on wax tablets. Later, it evolved to mean "a manner of writing" or "mode of expression." The old French version, "stilus" evolved into "estile" or style and over the centuries, it was heavily used in fashion! The word evolved from an object to an abstract form of expression. It's a beautiful example of how language grows alongside humanity. 

I would say the word, "style" is one that deserves consideration of shifting away from photography into something different. The word can feel a little trite or even misleading in photography, especially because it can get tangled with the notion of a static identity. 

If I had to choose a more fitting word — one that honors the evolution of a photographer’s practice, it might be approach or vision or even aesthetic. 

How do those words land for you?

Susanne: Static identity—that’s it. The word style feels static and constricting to me in terms of art. Although looking at the etymology of the word helps to stretch my interpretation, I still find it awkward to use in the context of photography. 

I would rather use vision or voice. But then again, I think these are different things. If you asked me if I had a photographic style (or aesthetic), I would probably say no. But if you asked me whether I have a photographic vision or voice, my answer would be yes. 

I am not after a certain look. Instead, there are certain themes that I try to explore through my work, and that is far more important to me than having a distinct look or style throughout my portfolio. For example, over the past few years, I have been exploring the themes of transience and the passage of time. This is the red thread in my work. Whether it’s abandoned buildings, still lifes of dandelions, or the beach - they are all about these overarching themes for me.

But that doesn't mean I sometimes envy photographers whose work looks congruent and consistent!

Juliette: That's a very interesting response, Susanne, because I find your work quite consistent...and I especially like that you embrace the exploration of a particular theme. The fact that you can clearly define it for yourself shows congruency. I'd like to incorporate thematic approaches. 

I've been focused for many years on more micro themes such as my Reflections or Film Noir projects. It has brought an excitement for me because it provides a more narrow focus and at the same time, it stretches my own vision. 

So, back to the word definitions, I think we have "voice" to help us define our approach... the direction in which we channel our work. Then we have "aesthetic", which feels more to me like how we use the elements of photography to drive our voice. 

Do you agree? And if so, what then what happens when we are called to depart from that voice? What if for example, you were suddenly interested in photographing architecture or wildlife? Is it too radical of a departure and would it break your vision?

Susanne: I guess you're right - there is congruency in my work, just not necessarily a visual one, or one that could be defined by a subject like macro, landscape, or people photography. 

And now that I think about it, it's much more important to me to have a theme I want to explore and express through my work than to have a portfolio that looks visually coherent. But I still have moments - especially when social media bombards me with blog posts or videos about the necessity of having a personal style, or how to find your own style in photography - when I start to doubt my work. 

Your themes sound more like technical explorations. And I mean that without any judgment. I wonder, what is it that drives your work? Is there something you want to express through it? Or is it simply the joy of being out and about with your camera, exploring the world through your lens? You mentioned the Film Noir project, which I really liked. But for me, that falls more into the category of style or aesthetics and has less to do with voice or vision. 

Back to your question: if I ever feel like I'm done exploring the themes I've mentioned, and suddenly feel the urge to go out into the streets to photograph people or architecture, I would absolutely follow that urge. If that's what I feel I want or need to do, so be it. In the end, photography is a way for me to explore the world; it helps me be more present. It's like a sixth sense that helps me to experience the world differently. Sticking to my theme would, in the end, be like sticking to a style—and that's something I don’t want for myself or my creativity.

I would like to add a quote by Edward Weston, who already talked almost hundred years ago about our dilemma: 

“I would say to any artist, - don’t be repressed in your work - dare to experiment - consider any urge - if in a new direction all the better - as a gift from the Gods not to be lightly denied by convention or a priori concept. Our time is becoming more and more bound by logic, absolute rationalism: this is a straightjacket! - it is the boredom and narrowness which rises directly from mediocre mass thinking.” 

- Edward Weston - January 28, 1932 (from his journals)

Juliette: Great insights here, Susanne!! 

For me, my Film Noir project actually might seem more to do with technical at first. My intention though was a deeper exploration with monochrome and the dark world that is represented in the Film Noir movie world of cynicism and human darkness. However, now it has evolved into an exploration of a personal growth opportunity.   

All of this to say that we're coming to a point here in this conversation. That quote by Weston you offered really just confirms the direction to me. 

We as humans let way too many outside forces influence us. If we could be children again holding a camera, but have all the expertise that we've harnessed as adults, what would we do? What would we say through our photos and how would we say it? I suspect there would be none of this "style" crap! :) It would just be intention and impulse. It would be whatever it wants to be - cohesive or not, and almost mad, if you judge it with the world's vocabulary. 

Do you agree with this? If so, what can we as individuals and the community do to rebel against the straitjacket Weston describes?

Susanne: How exciting that you’ve found a deeper meaning and connection through your exploration and play with the film noir genre! I can’t wait to hear more about it. 

When I first started photographing abandoned buildings back in 2008, I did it because I was fascinated by the fact that people—or society—would just leave places behind to rot. I photographed abandoned churches, factories, hospitals, breweries—you name it. I was drawn to the peeling paint, rusty doorknobs, and technical equipment left behind. I found it all so aesthetically pleasing. 

One day (I was living in Chicago at the time), I went on a road trip with a friend. We drove through rural Illinois and came across a number of abandoned farmhouses, which we photographed. I noticed they had a completely different impact on me. I was moved by the empty chair in the corner, the calendar on the wall from 20 years ago, the telephone silently hanging there. These places felt different from the corridors of an abandoned school or shopping mall. By reflecting on my feelings and associations with these abandoned family homes, I began to understand the deeper meaning they held for me. At that time, I was dealing with different kinds of grief and loss, and photographing these buildings gave me a way to connect with and express those emotions. That’s when I realized what I wanted to explore through my photography. 

I guess what I’m trying to say is this: When you’re searching for your voice in photography, don’t just try new things because you find them interesting - also take the time to reflect on them. Listen to yourself. Notice how you respond to certain subjects and ask why. Does it feel right to you? 

We live in a world that emphasizes external validation and applause. It’s easy to take that for granted—and even build our work around it. But we often forget to look inward. And yet, that’s where our voice sits, quietly waiting to be heard. I think that’s what we can do as individuals. 

What we can do as a community? I honestly don’t know. That feels much more complicated and, in many ways, kind of screwed up.

Juliette: That's a great story and good advice, Susanne. What a lovely approach to not just witnessing but integrating subjects into our minds as photographers. 

I couldn't agree more when you said not to just try new things but to take time to reflect on them. I've spent most of my years in photography going almost entirely on gut instinct. While I believe in "following our muse" I also believe it is becoming more important to look at the 1,000 frames you shot in a day and ask why I responded in a certain way, but also, what's the common thread in these 1,000 photos and do they represent a connection within myself? What am I being asked here?   

Following that thread to me, is balancing the process. It's making a distinction between intuition and exploration. I think we need both to grow in how we see....   

Maybe I'm waxing too philosophical here, but bringing it back to the idea of "vision" and the beautiful quote you shared from Edward Weston, where he said don't be repressed in your work - dare to experiment. Weston also went on to say that his "best" does not define him when he said: 

"I will also be criticized for the size of my show. But I am a prolific, mass-production, omnivorous seeker. I can't be represented by 100, 200, or even 300 photographs to cover 44 years work."   

Maybe our vision seems to be something that is always changing and one that is hard to define. 

I think by now we've ventured miles away from our original discussion about "style" and found some common beliefs and also a lot of breathing room around the concept of a photographer. What do you think?

Susanne: I agree with you wholeheartedly: if you want to grow as a photographer, you should not only follow your instincts and intuition but also reflect on your own work—and perhaps even on the work of others. 

The quote by Weston you added brings me back to our initial dilemma of “style.” 

Weston was absolutely correct that a photographer can’t be defined by just a couple of photographs, especially if you have photographed for many decades. I’m sure many would disagree, and there are probably photographers out there who have always stuck to one style, theme, or aesthetic, and could pick out 20 photographs that define themselves. I am not one of them. 

The main reason I am such an opponent of the word “style” is that I have been photographing since 2008 - that’s seventeen years. In these years, I have had many life-changing experiences, all of which have influenced me and made me who I am today. I am a work in progress, and so is my photography. Every single photograph is like an entry in my diary. A body of work only a chapter of my creative journey. I find it important to allow my photography to change as I change as a human being.

Juliette: 100%, Susanne!! We've been making photographs long enough to have learned this for ourselves. 

I think the lesson about not sticking to one theme or aesthetic was one I really dragged my feet on for some time! I wrote about it early on in Substack newsletter because I had just come out of a long few years of trying hard to let go of my self-imposed definition as a street photographer but struggling with some sense of duty to the genre. I feel liberated from that now. 

Street photography will always be a genre I am interested in and continue to practice, but as you said, I have had so many life-changing experiences that have helped to evolve me as a person, how can I not reflect those experiences in my photography? 

Well, this has been a lovely discussion!!

Susanne: Yes, sometimes it helps not to ponder on these questions alone. Thank you for thinking along! 

Juliette: Thank you for thinking along with me!