Jake Terrey with Matilda Dods & Peter Beard
JAKE TERREY IS A PHOTOGRAPHER BASED IN SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA. HIS FASHION AND EDITORIAL SHOOTS HAVE A CERTAIN UNBUTTONED SWAGGER, CHARM, AND FILMIC GLAMOUR THAT’S REMINISCENT OF 60’S AND 70’S HOLLYWOOD AND EUROPEAN CINEMA, WITH THEIR ATTENTION TO FORMAL ELEGANCE AND PHOTOGRAPHIC SOPHISTICATION.
Commissions from Vogue, GQ, Denizen, and Camilla and Marc have made full use of Jake’s uninhibitedly stylish ability to capture and elevate brands, models, and campaigns with candor and verve. On the more casual side, Jake’s travel and personal photography has a similar though perhaps more documentarian approach, capturing the spirit of the destinations and people in classic colors, poses, and vignettes. The decisive moment, for Jake, is often sensual, arresting, and cheeky. Whether he’s documenting travels in Italy, USA, Cuba, Rajasthan, or Russia, or opening his lens on a vivid Mardi Gras night or an adrenalized motorbike and big machine day, there’s always the same delightful, confident, and vigorous energy in the frame. TSUKI emailed Jake to talk about his process for this gallery, a series which he’s titled Nice Things That Were In The House.
HOW DO YOU CREATE AT HOME?
HOW HAS THIS BEEN DIFFERENT FROM YOUR REGULAR PROCESS?
I guess I’ve never really been much of a “make something out of nothing” kind of person. I usually approach a shoot by thinking: OK, what is the absolute most we can do with this.... and then obviously everything boils down. This was a nice change of pace, or perspective, or… just a nice change. Certainly not a bad lesson to learn.
ARE YOU ABLE TO WORK IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD OR YOUR STUDIO DURING LOCKDOWN? OR IS IT JUST FROM HOME?
So often I’m only ever inspired to go somewhere really far to make personal work. It’s nice to bring it all back to center and work literally in my backyard. Very fortunately, my next-door neighbor (Peter Beard) is one of the top makeup artists in Australia. Also very fortunate was that my wonderful partner (Matilda Dods) is a top model. Terribly convenient. What was the name of that old Dead Kennedy’s album? Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death? Maybe both.
Outside of a responsibly distanced wine / whiskey / beer / cigarette / sake / rum / complain / vodka / tea / brandy on our doorsteps, we had all been very good with isolating—so it was nice to have that pay off and be able to safely work together.
HAS THIS SITUATION ENCOURAGED OR EVEN DEMANDED
YOU TO TRY SOMETHING NEW?
Yeah entirely. I don’t think I ever would have done something like this if I wasn’t forced to—and that’s a great thing. I always think that what you end up with is only ever the culmination of the hurdles jumped to get there. David Bowie used to have this deck of cards with various musical obstacles written on them and he’d pull them out whenever he felt he wasn’t being creative enough. Like, “Alright, for this take we are only going to use this synth in this key and we’ll see where that challenge takes us”; “Alright, for this shoot we are only going to use things in the house and try not to let the existential dread seeping in under the door to get to us.”
WHAT ARE SOME CHANGES IN PROCESS, APPROACH, OR OUTCOME?
I tried to lean on my scanning processes and pull something out of the images that way. Kind of digitally cross-processing strange film stocks by using the wrong recipes to shoot the negs. That’s something I’ll hold onto. Or maybe it’ll lead me to something entirely different! You’ve got to have that backlog of processes to steer you onto the next idea. I read this quote from E.L. Doctorow a while ago—it’s not about taking photos but I think it applies: “Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” So maybe six months or six years from now I’ll think back on this and revisit the purple tone in the flowers, or maybe I’ll only think back on this interview and decide to do a shoot about a novelist that gets stuck in their car on a foggy night. There are no inexplicable ideas.
HOW HAVE THESE CHANGES TO YOUR LIFE ALTERED YOUR WORK?
There’s a lot of waiting. A lot of just seeing what, if anything, we can do? I guess you try to pull on the thread and see if it leads to something. I think when this is over I’ll look back at it as a time where I made things I could have only made during the pandemic. I have a few bizarre things brewing that could have only ever been a reaction to this. Maybe I’ll be looking to more things to react to when the obvious isn’t around anymore.
DO YOU HAVE A NEW OR DIFFERENT WAY OF STAYING INTERESTED, INSPIRED, OR MOTIVATED?
I’m hoping that the amount of time I now spend talking to my cat will pay off. Surely he knows something I don’t.
“I DON’T THINK I EVER WOULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING LIKE THIS IF I WASN’T FORCED TO—AND THAT’S A GREAT THING.”
IS THERE ANYTHING POSITIVE (OR NEGATIVE) YOU CAN SEE COMING
OUT OF THIS SITUATION?
I think I have a tendency to let work come to me too often that I’d like to erase—or lean on less. My phone goes off and I salivate for the likelihood of it being my wonderful agent telling me what I’m doing next. It’s hard to both work professionally and have a main role in the creation of all projects. I’ve struggled with this a lot in the past. Now it’s like everyone is desperate for creatives to pitch something we could be doing. I hope that this whole thing teaches to me take the first leap and not to wait for things I have no control over.
WHO ELSE'S WORK MIGHT YOU WANT TO SEE FEATURED ON TSUKI?
I want to see Christo wrap his own home.