You, Me, We, Them: Adali Schell

Andrew D. McClees (ADM): For those who aren't familiar, could you introduce yourself and your work?

Adali Schell (AS): Hi, my name is Adali Schell, I'm 19 years old and a street photographer from LA and I'm developing my first self published book/zine. I've been shooting LA's streets since I was 14, so this is something like six years in the making. I've been drawn to the streets since I was little - to get to my elementary school my mom would take Hollywood Boulevard, and even then I remember peering out the window, fascinated by LA's unique street culture and life. As I grew, I became aware of LA's superficiality driven by Hollywood, social media and our collective quench for fame, wealth, and materialistic longings, yet, as an Angeleno, I knew of an authenticity to LA that has never been shown to the rest of the world. 

I started shooting after seeing Finding Vivian Maier, a documentary on the 20th century NYC/Chicago street photographer. Through this film, I discovered the world of street photography which prompted an awakening within myself as to how I can translate my frustrations around LA's misrepresentation into a meaningful and creative exercise. I picked up a camera and never turned back I suppose. Moving on from digital to analog film, studying photographers like Joel Meyerowitz, Garry Winogrand, Richard Sandler, Lee Friedlander and even younger, active photographers like Daniel Arnold, Todd Gross, Joey Prince, John Harding, Colleen Combs, Ben Molina, Aaron Berger, Geoff Haggray, Julian Master, Troy Holden, Jonathan Walker, Todd Fisher... I'll stop here to be polite. This list goes on for years.

ADM: On it's face your upcoming zine is a compilation of your work from 2017 to now - is there a particular theme that unites the photos you chose, and what was your experience like, selecting photos retrospectively?

AS: I like to rely on my subconscious. While shooting, I try to rid myself of my conscious mind to let my innermost mind speak - I don't second guess the impulse to shoot, if I feel it, I snap it. I don't spend any time thinking about the shot, I try to capture it as closely to how I saw it. I've learned that I am just as much an instrument as the camera is. Everything I've ever shot first came through my eyes and brain, then to my camera. I am the filter to this otherwise disorienting and upsetting world. Not to pride myself too much. And of course, I went into this with a general idea of what I hoped to create - something reminiscent of Daniel Arnold craziness, with Friedlander-like composition, Winogrand-like impulse, Meyerowitz-like romanticism, and Maier-like mystery. But what I believe distinguished my work from another street photographers work is that my work is based in LA - an undershot and misrepresented city, with it's masses and unique culture left in the shadows as fabricated Marvel movies and sexy action explosion movies are filmed and projected onto the eyes of the world. No disrespect to Hollywood, but I have realized that there is an undeniable vacuum left here - story's to be told, characters to be written and talked about, experiences to be empathized with, laughed with (or maybe even at,) and neighborhoods, people, and moments to be remembered - proof of a relatively short, bleak and irrelevant existence, proof to be remembered, thought of, and loved. In many ways, my photography is largely an existential outlet, an exercise to cope with my existence, in an abstraction and as a physical being. A constant collaboration with my environment - constantly judging, critiquing, hating, and loving. My admiration stems from this spectrum of emotions. 

And I realize that once I'd be hundreds and hundreds of rolls into shooting for this project, this would soon be a reflection of my subconscious state more so than my conscious state, as I found myself fighting to reflect what I created in my head, as I'd be constantly disappointed that one can never perfectly articulate what is on their mind - in words or through photos, drawings, music, etc., whereas letting my subconscious go was far from being a strenuous task. And in this incoherent three year long subconscious ramble, pushing aside any expectation or desire, I found that I would create some sort of thematic unity, as a pure flow of inner thought made tangible through something like 64,000 35mm frames could yield some sort of consistency. Or so I hope.

Selecting the photos has been tough. I've been looking at this zine a few times a week, but it takes time to understand which photos should be paired together and which should be shown alone. Especially because these are living, breathing documents I'm working with. What they mean now in 2020 will be entirely different than what they mean in 2050. These photographs reflect a one of one description of a time and place. In the moment, especially with our innate numbness to instant digital cameras like our phones, we often forget this. Only upon reflection do we realize this, as you and me probably have, going through our parents photographs of them in highschool, college, early lives - a relatively shitty photo of a woman then may reflect a lost and nostalgic aesthetic of colors that we don't see anymore, of clothing, make up and hair styles that have been out of style for decades, etc. Who knows what will be interesting to look at decades from now. Because of this, I try to exist in 2050, thinking of what can be interesting now to someone from then. As I shoot, sometimes I pretend to be a person from 2050 who gets to spend one day in 2020. But yes, theme - I suppose everything that makes LA, LA - materialism, poverty vs affluence, desperation, politics, love; to be and to love, struggle, absurdity, chaos, energy, mundane beauty, irony, humour, etc. If I can check half of these boxes I think I'll feel good about this work.

ADM: Where does the name "you, me, we, them" come from? Is there a particular image, or set of images in the zine that explain the title?

AS: "You, me, we, them" comes from how I feel about being an entity. Kind of what I said in my last answer. I struggle with existing. I'm constantly fidgeting, anxious, thinking about the next moment or the moment before, what I don't have in the moment. Also being a physical being who can affect someone else is weird to me. And photography has been some sort of escape of the physical realm to me. I can kind of dissolve. Capturing fleeting moments, rarely being noticed. In a thick crowd just one of thousands, what do I matter? So this title is kind of an analysis of that idea, my relationship with others, and myself, mentally and physically.

I've actually had a hard time trying to think of one image that encapsulates this idea. I don't think that I've made it yet. A lot of them are close, but not quite there. Mostly because of how I've divided this work up by location - oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the zine is in like four chapters; Hollywood, Downtown, Santa Monica, and miscellaneous - because LA is so sprawled out, I've shot designated locations with high people density to kind of carry over what I learned from NYC photographers and apply it to LA. But it's really different out here and needs to be shot in it's own way which is what I'm realizing right now. That will require more space and desolation, and an isolation of subject matter. Less chaos. I can pick photos that describe my feelings about one specific location, but not about all of LA. But I hope that the collection of all of these photographs, in the sequence that they'll be in can spell that out.

ADM: That's definitely a broad statement of being - what's next or what's the next project after you wrap up the finalized book? Or will you continue to shoot and collect another collection, without direct regard for a project?

AS: I'm not too sure honestly. My LA street work has consumed so many years and I was just forced to wrap it up given the coronavirus situation. I think it would feel wrong to keep the project going since we are completely rethinking our social and commuting habits. This is a moment of great change and the street won’t look as it did for a very long time. Not to say I’m done taking street photographs, but I think I will be wrapping up this particular street project. I’m intending to publish this zine now, and in maybe twenty years I'll try and publish this work in a serious book, that way I can give these photographs the gift of time to evolve and mature into whatever context that 20 years could create.

Since covid broke out, I started working on a new project that looks at LA's urban color palette and geometry. I started riding my bike everyday since traffic has died down, and I've been lugging around my heavy 6x7 camera in my backpack which seriously sucks so I hope that I've been producing some strong images. It's kind of this blend of street and landscape photography. I've never felt connected to landscape photography because I've never felt familiar with nature, but what I've realized is that all photographs describe concretely are lines, shapes, and colors, and any deeper meaning about emotion or whatever is an interpretation which is subjective. But the geometry is what it is, and indisputable. So I've studied some landscape photographers like Shore and Sternfeld, and have gotten drawn in by their composition and occasional ironies. Like the one sternfeld shot of Mount Rushmore with the tangled rack holding satellite dishes in the foreground. That rules. And the firemen walking through a pumpkin patch with a blazing fire in the distance. And Shore's shot of the tiny church in the middle of nowhere. I couldn't believe these photographs when I first saw them because they convey the same feelings I get from Meyerowitz and Winogrand photographs. But they're taken on 8x10 field cameras and fit the category of landscape photos. I've also drawn from classical paintings. There's this one section at the Getty museum that is dedicated to relatively realistic Venetian landscape paintings that are huge and full of crazy detail. I'm into those colors and compositions and infinite depth of field. And what I'm doing draws from those ironies and geometric configurations. Beyond actual subject matter, I'm looking through what I'm shooting and seeing lines and light. I hope it becomes something. 

And on my 35mm camera, I've tried shooting a couple of things for fun, nothing as serious as the street work I've worked on for so many years. I've been shooting off my bike, probably with my handle bars in the foreground of whatever catches my eye. I haven't seen any of these images yet so I don't know if it's coherent or anything. Admittedly, I have sometimes been seeing a very small group of friends in these past five months, and I hope that those photographs maybe can radiate a feeling of heightened angst amidst the pandemic, a naivety to thinking we're less at risk or maybe even invincible, teens who are either bored, horny or depressed, yearning for activity, attention, a reason to get out of bed. We're existing in unchartered waters. I don't really know what I'm doing either. I've just turned 19 and am a part of the class of 2020. And taking photos has been a remedy to life's absurdity and my struggles because of. I think I'm OK at it. And this has all been very challenging for me as it has been for all of us. Yet in spite of my mental haze and desperation, I hope my photographs carry a theme and coherency.

ADM: What was your shooting process like? and did it change over the three and a half years you compiled this body of work over?

AS: The shooting process started with a digital camera that I actually bought with my bar mitzvah money at age 13 ; I used that for something like 4 years, until my dad showed me his old Nikon Nikkormat SLR with a 24mm prime (what I still use today.) Then I took a Darkroom Photography course at SVA in NYC one summer and was properly introduced to film. So I shot exclusively black and white for a while, doing my own developing and printing, not scanning anything, keeping it entirely analog. Then I eventually became curious to explore color and started to digitize my work. That was the summer of 2018 when I felt like I developed the foundational skill that is necessary. Since then I've done something like 1800 rolls probably, all in LA. That's like 64,800 photographs, and I'm selecting only 80 or 100, which at most is only like 0.0015 of the photographs I've made since shooting film. God only knows how many digital photos came before and also during then. 

ADM: You speak quite a bit about documenting Los Angeles - how did you get there (are you a native angeleno?), and what inspires you to document the city? What have you discovered in your photos?

AS: Yeah, I'm from LA. Born and raised! I've always been frustrated over LA's misrepresentation which also inspired me to do something about it. The superficiality that this city is advertised to be is not really what it is. I've only known of an authentic LA. I grew up in Los Feliz which is wedged in between Thai Town and Little Armenia in the East Hollywood area. When I was 14, I realized that the camera could be used as a weapon against that, to describe how authentic and beautiful this city really is when you don't buy into the Hollywood and Kardashian crap. I also wanted to show the world, or at least my Instagram followers what other Angelenos look like. Not just Tom Cruise and Kim K., but those of us who keep this city running. The jewelry store worker in Downtown. The tourists in Hollywood. The street performers on the Pier. These people have never had a spotlight and I have tried to give them one in a sense.

ADM: You mention a broad gathering of influences - is there something, a thread, that unites them, and how do you relate to your influences?

AS: I think that my influences are united by character. If they're distinct and also funny or ironic. Winogrand, Meyerowitz, Levitt, Sternfeld, Friedlander, Cohen, these photographers took strong photographs that were also sometimes funny. There's often a tension that exists, either in composure, or color, or emotion. And in paintings, I see lines and colors as I do in photographs. So to me they're basically the same thing, except that to make a photograph you are deconstructing the world around you and in a painting you are constructing from the world around you.

ADM: Jumping on that - your work largely seems to fit into the Street Photography tradition - what is Street Photography to you, and more generally, what is Photography to you?

AS: Like Winogrand once said, I feel like the term "street photography" is pretty silly. It doesn't tell you anything about the picture or the work. But the values that are attached to street photography are mostly akin to that of photojournalism; truth, grit, transparency, humanity, empathy. I like those traits and look to recreate them. But I feel that street photography is less serious than photojournalism, so I also look for those humorous aspects. On a broader note, photography is a reason. A reason to live at the very least, a reason to go out, a reason to be in that area or to step through those doors into that room, a reason to be present, a reason to think about your placement in the world, a reason to think about where you stand in society and your relationship to your peers and neighbors. A reason to think of where we come from historically and a reason to feel obligated to be an informed citizen of the world. A reason to be empathetic to others, a reason to be concerned about politics and the state of the world and humanity. And in today's climate, I think that we all need to be politically engaged, for environmental reasons, for humanitarian reasons, for ethical reasons.

ADM: So, this is part curiosity of my own, but that's a ton of film to shoot, I know that shooting on film and digital don't really line up on an even ratio, but how do you shoot such a high volume? or what keeps you shooting at such a high volume?

AS: I have tried to shoot less but I can't. I think it'd be better to shoot less. Henry Wessel, a really amazing and renowned San Francisco photographer spent his lifetime shooting SF but he never "went out to take photos." Rather, he went about his day, driving and running errands, doing whatever he does and he carried his camera with him and created an incredible body of work. Whereas with me, I am always searching for photos. There isn't really a moment where it isn't at the front of my mind. I think that this causes me to shoot a lot but also causes me to kind of go insane, my practice is like a never ending search for something that doesn't actually exist, this search for meaning, for clarity. I think to put it into relative terms for someone who isn't a photographer, I feel like there is a word I'm trying to use that I can't remember, and it's on the tip of my tongue, forever. And at every opportunity trying to rephrase what I mean, I can't quite do it. It's this restlessness that keeps me going. Even with my favorite photographs that I've made, I feel like I've missed the mark by a tad, I think I only have like five photographs I've ever taken where I feel like I described exactly what I wanted to.

ADM: What's your key tip on shooting so much, and what key advice would you give to someone about throwing themselves deep into photography?

AS: I can only speak on behalf of my experiences, but what's kept me going is my own frustrations. Aside from photography, I've always had a hard time saying what I mean; with my parents and friends, also especially in past relationships that admittedly still live and rot in my conscious. I hate to say this but I am one to replay scenarios in my head over and over again, getting that last word in, or dwelling on the hypotheticals if something would’ve gone differently. The act of making photographs has been therapeutic in many ways and particularly with this - to spend so much time on one particular moment at a sliver of a second - shooting, developing, scanning, printing, reviewing, etc, it is comforting to become 100% familiar and comfortable with a moment that I lived in. I also had a few tough years from age 14 to 16 where I lived in the suburbs and completely shut down socially. There was like a three month window where I got back on my feet but I quickly stumbled again as I had completely lost myself and most of anything that I found desirable in my life. But while three years isn't very long generally, when you're 15 it is, and my photography is a blatant act where I'm trying to overcorrect for those years lost. Memories that I could've had, trouble I could’ve got in, photographs I could’ve made, friends I could've had, girls I could've loved, etc. I've tried to overwhelm my time now and these coming years. Third, I can't sit still, I need to be out seeing and breathing and living and feeling or I get really antsy and depressed, I think this is an effect of feeling like I've lost time. Lastly, for existential reasons, life is short and I want something to show, a proof of my own existence and of others existence in this otherwise short and bleak world. I, like most others, hope to leave something behind, and the idea of leaving behind a book or prints or some photographic documentation describing what this moment and people and environment and city looked and felt like is really enticing to me.

ADM: From David Gilbert Wright: If you could travel back in time, which photographer from history would you most like to interview for this magazine, and why?

AS: Tough question, probably Vivian Maier since there is practically no information on her!

ADM: What question do you have for the next photographer? you can answer it yourself if you'd like.

AS: What drives you to take photos, rather than making films or writing or expressing yourself in another way?

ADM: Where can we pick up copies of the zine and book? Also where can we see more of your work, and do you have any parting words or advice?

AS: You can reserve a copy for the zine by contacting me through Instagram @advli or through my email, adalischell@gmail.com. I might set up a thing on my site to buy one but I want to keep it personal, I like the idea of the person coming directly through me than through a website where they don't actually read my own words that I've personally typed out with my own thumbs specially for them. I also have two photographs being published in the book "To Live & Cry in LA" which is being produced by 35m Pro, a lab out in Sherman Oaks, with work consisting of 60-something LA photographers who documented the height of the BLM movement. That is currently being produced and should be made available to purchase sometime soonish.

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