We Are All Both, The Head of The Serpent, And Its Tail

Featuring Federico Javier Kaplan Words by Nastasia Khmelnitski

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The light is fading out, perhaps it starts raining, the skies turn its color to deep new shade mixing what’s left in the afternoon palette to uncover a distinct wondrous sight. Escaping from the walls at a temporal residence Federico takes a walk to capture the uncontemplated instances in the city streets. He paints the abandoned places in an emotional manner that offers a viewer to dive into the experience through his eyes.

Federico ‘Monty’ Kaplan is an Argentinian photographer, originally from Castelar, with an artistic mindset, who is represented by Open Door Gallery, London. His work is a subjective vision of documentary photography, which is deconstructed to show the surrounding places and individuals from a new perspective. Monty’s work is presented in two books Centuries in the Sun and No Place Like Home, he participated in various exhibitions in the UK, Paris, London, the US, and Argentina. 

We discuss with Monty his long term continuous project Nocturno, the visual diary on lonely strolls during night time shot in cities around the world for the course of the last five years. “All my life I've been lonesome. Not alone, but lonely. The distinction seems redundant...” - Monty. We touch on topics such as his hometown, deculturization and switch to the Eastern culture, the favorite time to photograph, and El Hombre Duplicado.

‘I do remember from my early 20s a place called San Bernardo, which was a rundown pool bar a lot of creatives would hang out at. It was a fun atmosphere for a while.’

Hi Monty, so you’re originally from Argentina. Tell about your hometown and some of the best cafes where creators meet. 

Yes, indeed I am. My hometown is actually a very small town far west of the city, called Castelar. I lived there until I was about 15 when I moved to Buenos Aires. The city itself is an amazing place, really is. It's absolutely gorgeous and outstandingly interesting. Literally, there's always something going on, there is so much art and culture, and partying. It's definitely a city to experience.

However, it's not the best place to live in, honestly, there's a lot of insecurity, the really violent kind. And of course, our economy is so unstable that it would leave most people's heads spinning endlessly. 

Some of the best cafes... Well, I don't think there's any specific place for a gathering, that's always changing. Again it's a really big, expansive city, and there are a lot of options going around.

I do remember from my early 20s a place called San Bernardo, which was a rundown pool bar a lot of creatives would hang out at. It was a fun atmosphere for a while.

‘I've always had a really hard time with what I was told growing up, with the reality I was presented to. I'd often ponder on a lot of things (actions, words, information) that most people around me seemed to be accepting and embracing almost instantly.’

You present your work as an anthropological exploration of the surrounding world. The senses need to be sharp and always in search of the new topic to cover, a certain light that adds magic to the possible frame, a peculiar scene to catch the person’s emotions and body movement. How do you think you tend to see this world or in which light do you usually interpret it?

For a very long time, I was a cynical person, which led to a pessimistic view of the world and life as a whole. Lately, I'm a bit more relaxed, because I'm going through a process of what you might call "deculturalization", where I'm trying to leave behind my Western perspective of life, and embrace an Eastern approach to it. It's quite a paradigm shift, so it's an ongoing process. 

I've always had a really hard time with what I was told growing up, with the reality I was presented to. I'd often ponder on a lot of things (actions, words, information) that most people around me seemed to be accepting and embracing almost instantly. I was constantly somewhat suspicious about the knowledge that was imparted on me, and still am today. I'm like a kid who never got over his "but why?" phase.

I'm not an idiot either, it's not like I believe that the earth is flat and that science is the devil. And yet, I can't help but think that Western civilization as a whole is akin to a snowball falling down a mountain, it started small and kept getting bigger and bigger. And now it's so massive, it accumulates snow faster than ever before, and it violently speeds towards a finish line. 

Nobody can stop it, or wants to now. There's so much wrong, so many things we deem "normal" that are actually so bizarre, and yet the whole of society is constantly telling you "just don't think about it so much, just keep going, just do it, do it. Let's go. be productive, do things. You've got no time!!". You're in this constant flux of being productive, and stressing about being productive. Progress is what we call it, but progress always has a goal in its intention. And I'm striving to live without intention.

‘Sometimes you feel bad, because you don't really want to scare people off, but other times I must say, it is a bit exhilarating and strangely appealing to impose fear onto another person, you do get a very particular satisfaction of feeling like the hunter, and not the hunted.’

The project Nocturno is an ongoing series you’ve been working on for over 5 years now. The topic is loneliness - the body of work - has some recurring themes such as the beautiful black and white palette, the absence of people, and the focus on the distinct objects and places shot in the dark. What catches your eye, so you decide to add the shoot to this specific series? 

The series was actually born in post, as opposed to having been shot with the idea already set in my mind. It was interesting because I was digging into my archives and realizing the things I was fixating on, and the things that were catching my eyes, and it gave me such a window into my own head at the time. So in that sense, it's kind of the opposite from what you were asking, I was just taking pictures, but the pictures were telling the story about me, and about how I was feeling.

Later on, when the project was already taking shape, there was a lot of material that was shot deliberately for it, most of all in Berlin, where I finally finished the series. But even then, I am not a photographer who goes out seeking something particular. I'm a rambler. I walk and walk all night long. And eventually, I come across things that seem to appear out of magic onto me. But it's all patience, every time.

I shoot without thinking about what I'm shooting. If you think about it too much, whatever you saw in there that was interesting, is gone by then. You've ruined it by overthinking it. A photo should be a spontaneous act that comes from instinct. 

What did you learn from shooting Nocturno? What was the most powerful experience you had from visiting new cities in different countries?    

I learned not to jump into someone's personal backyard when you're in the United States of America, that's for damn sure... The closest I've ever been to getting shot.

Also that Berlin at night is one of the quietest cities in the world, sometimes to an extreme. They really take silence seriously there. As I understood it, it's all out of respect, which is a very nice thing indeed. 

Another thing would be that no matter what city you're in, a constant is that nobody likes to have a suspicious-looking figure lurking around their neighborhood at night, haha.

Sometimes you feel bad, because you don't really want to scare people off, but other times I must say, it is a bit exhilarating and strangely appealing to impose fear onto another person, you do get a very particular satisfaction of feeling like the hunter, and not the hunted. And that's a feeling that I'd argue you need to have sometimes while walking around at night. You need it because it can get very scary out there, and dangerous as well.

Sometimes walking around the woods, or even in cities like NY, you don't really know what's going to happen. You're playing a game of Russian Roulette with yourself, seeing how far you'll go, are you going to turn onto that dark corner? You don't know what's on the other side, could be anything really. 

On a more spiritual note, I think the most important lesson I learned while living like a nomad and shooting this series is that there's nowhere to go. Of course, there's everywhere to go, but what I mean is, no matter how exotic you think the place will be, how far away it is, you're always there with yourself. There's no running away from that. You're your own center of the world, so whatever you're looking for externally, you won't find it anywhere. 

Still, it's always a joy to travel. I'm my most comfortable self while on the road. Meeting new ways of living, new people, new perspectives, helps you broaden your ideas, helps you grow. Even if you have a shitty experience, I'd say it is all worth it.

You speak about the difference between loneliness and being alone and explain that loneliness has nothing to do with being surrounded by people. Do you think of yourself as a lonely person, or is it a metaphorical stance on existence as a whole? 

Both I guess, haha. I'm a pretty lonely guy, yeah. Still today, I feel it. I feel it every day. What I meant to say with that phrase was that loneliness is a feeling that makes you get lost within yourself and gives you a skewed perception of things. You can see people around you, and hear them, but it feels distorted somehow. So it's not that you are physically alone, it just feels like you are, that's when the disconnection comes in, and it leaves you dazed.

But going back to that metaphorical idea of it actually, I think it's just the opposite then. We are never alone, we are constantly surrounded by all things in this conceivable universe. We all exist in this very moment which is this immediate present, and everything that exists right now (including all of us) is connected, and I don't mean it in a spiritual sense of "everything's connected", but in a matter of fact sense, of everything that is, as opposed to everything that isn't (does not/will not exist - a.k.a. the great void) is in a balanced correspondence with one another, in a conversation if you will. We are all both, the head of the serpent, and its tail.

What fascinates you about the night? Do you still prefer this time of the day? 

I think my fixation with the night started at a very early age, I'd say around 6 or 7, and mainly because of the taboo surrounding it. When you're a kid, the night is not something you get to experience, as you're told to go to bed, the night is for sleeping. So for me, it was always these concealed things, this mystery I didn't have any access to, so that's when my obsession really began to grow. 

There's also the aesthetics of the night, which I find very pleasing. I like lamp post lighting, dark alleys, and empty streets. It's something about the mood, a feeling I get from it, hard to put into words. 

I do still prefer the night to the day, but just because it's a much more calm environment to be in. I like silence. I always get a bit anxious, a bit stressed out, during the day.

‘I'm a very experimental person, by this I mean I'm like a kid, I like to play, so the thing I appreciate most about film is its unlimited capacity to be explored and messed around with, like if it were a toy.’

What are some of your favorite books? Could you, in some sentences, describe the most interesting part of the plot?

Whoa, another really tough one... Some of my all-time favorites are Rayuela (Hopscotch), High Fidelity, The Trial, 1984, The Plague, El Hacedor (Dreamtigers), As I Lay Dying, Lolita, damn so many choices.

But I have to say that the one that holds the most special place in my heart is El Hombre Duplicado (The Double) by José Saramago. For some reason, it's a book that changed me profoundly when I read it, and I've read quite a few times since.

The most interesting part of the plot, hmmm... Well, that would definitely be early on, when our titular hero, Teertuliano Máximo Afonso, discovers that he has an exact double of himself (or maybe he is the double...?) when he watches a low-grade B film comedy and sees himself on the screen as an extra in the movie. 

What do you love about film photography?  

I'm a very experimental person, by this I mean I'm like a kid, I like to play, so the thing I appreciate most about film is its unlimited capacity to be explored and messed around with, like if it were a toy. I do my own developing, as well as scanning. So in that sense, to be able to get a hold of the whole process is something that lets me create a very specific look. 

In your other series and work, in general, you bring in a lot of colors like deep red, green, and shades of the blue sky turning to dark. The photographs remain gloomy, atmospherical, and melancholic. What is one of your favorite color shoots, and what is the story behind taking it from a technical or situational perspective? 

Can't say I remember a specific occasion as I said before, I'm not much of a "prepare for a shoot" type of photographer. I just go out. Having said that, my favourite time for photos is always when it's raining. Especially if it's close to the afternoon and the light is fading out. You can really underexpose that low light and get the most stunning images out of it, there's this greenish-blue hue to that light, which I personally adore.