Daniel Gonçalves
I've done a fair amount of traveling in my time on this planet. Usually, I do some searching about what a place will have to offer, and often that comes with some things that, as an American, I find odd about my upcoming destination. This is a pretty universal feeling, and I'm sure it works with anyone from "X" country looking at "Y" country finding some degree of skepticism or curiosity about a new culture. When I met Daniel Gonçalves over the now ubiquitous Zoom platform one day, I spent some time looking at what he was about and what kind of photographs he made. (I also learned how to make the cool looking ç on my keyboard, but that doesn't really relate to the rest of this). I found out that this is precisely what he was doing during his process as a photographer. Born of Portuguese immigrant parents in Canada, he was curious about American culture. Well, of course, why wouldn't people find our culture to be a peculiar thing? Let's face it, if there's anything the last four or five years (and more) have taught us, there is a lot of crazy shit happening in this country. It's quite refreshing to have the tables turned a bit to discover how we might be perceived from the outside. This gives us a way to be more self-aware, I feel, so I'm all for it.
Do you want to know what's crazy? Even after doing the digging he did with a couple of bodies of work, Daniel actually moved here and became a citizen himself. Brave man. I have to love that some people are always working things out, exploring, never seeming satisfied with the answers they've been given. They feel that there is more to it than at first glance. Truth seekers and I love the honesty.
Daniel has a great story. So let's see what he has to say about some of my questions…
Bio -
Daniel Gonçalves (the “ç” sounds like an “s”)
Daniel is a portrait and long-form documentary photographer based in Los Angeles, CA. His work explores themes of identity, culture, and the intersection of masculinity and vulnerability.
Daniel was born in Toronto, Canada, to a Portuguese immigrant family. Growing up, he was fascinated with America and what it means to be American. In 2015, Daniel became a U.S. citizen, yet his childhood curiosities about American culture did not vanish upon gaining citizenship. Instead, they became the focus of his work.
In his photographs, Daniel draws upon his perspective as an outsider-insider to explore American culture – the threads that bind people together and the ways in which those connections create an American experience.
Daniel's work has been included in exhibitions at Elizabeth Houston Gallery in New York, Houston Center for Photography, Filter Space in Chicago, Edition ONE Gallery in Santa Fe, Center for Photographic Art in Carmel, CA, and Moran Arts Foundation in Sydney. His work has been honored with Critical Mass Top 50, PhotoLA FOCUS grand prize, American Photography selected winner, and as a Latin American FOTOGRAFIA selected winner.
Interview -
Michael Kirchoff: What was it that led you to immerse yourself in the visual arts? Was there a particular inspiration that started it all for you?
Daniel Gonçalves: I came into this field sideways, so it’s difficult to say exactly if there was a specific moment or inspiration. Growing up, I was the family documentarian at all the birthdays and vacations. There was a sense of magic to it. People lived forever when you pointed this black box at them and pushed the button. A few days after making those photos, I’d go to our pharmacy and pick up an envelope full of ghosts and memories engraved on paper.
That idea of immortality still fascinates me and haunts me in some ways. I’ve had people contact me when a loved one passed away asking for a photo, so that’s something that sticks with me when I’m making photos of someone — this may be the photo used to represent that person after they’ve left this world. It’s especially difficult for me to let go of someone I care deeply about, so photography is my attempt to immortalize and hold on.
MK: Looking back, what is the one thing you wish you knew when you started making photographs?
DG: Oh boy, there’s so much. I’d be like, “Look dude, just take it easy, don’t put so much pressure on yourself. It’s ok to explore and keep trying different things. Nothing is forever, so just go follow your instinct. Your voice will come. You have time, things will evolve, they will change. Enjoy not having pressure and eyes on you. Make mistakes, no one will see them. Don’t be afraid of people who are different from you; say hi, be yourself and doors will open.” I think I need to tell myself some of those things now.
MK: You originally grew up in Toronto, Canada, the son of Portuguese immigrant parents. I’m wondering if you feel that your work or process has been more informed by one or the other? Coupling this idea with your fascination with the American way of life, has this caused more questions than answers?
DG: Yes, absolutely. Growing up in Canada and being Portuguese always left me feeling like I was somewhere in between. Not quite one or the other. There was a freedom to not feel boxed in, so I could be curious and explore those curiosities. Now, being Canadian, Portuguese, and American, you could say I know a bit more about all three and at the same time, I’m left with questions, many of which I intend to pursue.
Having lived in America, especially the last handful of years, I’m even more full of questions. It’s easy to lose hope, but it’s in dark times that we have the greatest opportunity to learn about others and ultimately about ourselves, so I hold on to hope. My curiosity will encourage me to talk with people who seem different and share that experience with whomever would like to experience it. I’m not interested in trying to convince anyone to think one way or another. My goal in sharing the work is to take the audience somewhere uncomfortable and give them the space to see the other side as also being human.
MK: Two of your bodies of work, 2nd Amendment Cowboy and Letters to Elvis, have similar themes behind them of being curious about American culture. After working on these collections and becoming a U.S. citizen yourself, do you feel that you’ve made any significant progress at understanding how this culture might apply to your own life?
DG: Previously my hope was that when I spent a significant amount of time exploring something, that I would come away with an understanding and a definitive answer. If I was successful in that approach, I’d have to ask myself if I was open to really seeing. Now I understand that if I come away with more questions that I started, that I’m approaching it in a way that feels more productive. These explorations often lead to the understanding that there is no easy answer. A vast landscape of gray where at first I may have seen only black and white. I have learned that the idea of America is much more complex than I could have realized.
MK: I wanted to hone in a little more on Letters to Elvis. I remember the day he passed because of my mother’s and sister’s infatuation with him. They made me a fan of the music but I didn’t understand the obsessive part. What is it you feel you discovered in the creation of these photographs about the man and his fans that someone like you or I did not originally grasp?
DG: Thanks for sharing that, Michael. Prior to starting the project, I was stunned by how people could be so deeply connected to someone they had never met. During the last year of my 30s I was contemplating my mortality and legacy. Elvis – who passed away the year I was born – had such a pull on people including those who weren’t alive before he passed away. He was barely older than I was at the time when he died and it fascinated me that he had touched so many people deeply. It still blows my mind. I visited Memphis during Elvis Week for the 39th, 40th and 41st anniversary of his death trying to understand this connection. Every year I met more people from all corners of the world, and I still couldn’t understand it. I was going to go back again and as I reflected on my time with these generous fans, I realized I wasn’t going to understand it and I didn’t need to understand it. There is no canned generic answer. Every fan’s connection is unique and personal.
MK: Any exceptionally interesting stories from one of these shoots?
DG: Absolutely, there are always stories, and being Portuguese, I’m always up for telling a good story. Here’s two.
Shortly after moving to Dallas, my wife and I were meeting friends for dinner in a nice part of town. Two men were walking around with what I would soon find out to be AR-15 style rifles. I had only seen this type of firearm on TV.
RUN!
My brain fired off heightened alerts of danger. It turned out my curiosity had a stronger pull and I thought it was appropriate to talk to them.
“Hey guys, what’s up?” I asked in an upbeat and curious demeanor. They were part of a 2nd Amendment gun rights group. They politely talked about the point they were trying to make. Under federal law you can openly carry a long rifle, including an AK-47, without many restrictions, but you couldn’t openly carry a handgun. It felt absurd, strange, crazy, but my feelings of fear were melting away. By the end of our short conversation, I understood where they were coming from, and I was left with a desire to learn more about something I had no idea about. A few weeks later I found myself at one of their houses and the more I learned, the more I felt compelled to research and talk with other gun owners.
With the Elvis project, one night I was at a bar on Beale Street in Memphis watching Elvis tribute artists perform. A lady’s back, an incredible canvas full of Elvis tattoos, caught my eye. I had never seen anything like it. I made some photos, but I felt like I didn’t do it justice. We spoke and a few days later we were in the apartment where Elvis and his parents lived when they were struggling financially. Amanda was an Elvis fan from Scotland. She rented the apartment above the unit where Elvis grew up at the Lauderdale Courts apartments for six years even though she didn’t live there — just so she could feel close to him.
MK: Do you collaborate with like-minded individuals on projects, or do you find it more productive to handle everything yourself? Are there any collaborations in the past that have been particularly beneficial?
DG: Photography often feels like a very lonely place to me. I love collaboration and I understand that work has the power to become deeper and more impactful when working with other people. As they say, the sum is greater than its parts. Since most of my work involves documenting people and their lives, those generous people are my most important collaborators. If they don’t let me in and share their story, I don’t have a story to tell.
During the past few years I’ve started sharing work with colleagues in the photography field and the feedback has been invaluable. My desire to collaborate and connect with other artists has been growing over the past couple of years and the result was in starting @StrangeLittlePlaces on Instagram. With this new project I will have the opportunity to work directly with other artists while also exploring my curatorial curiosity.
MK: What mental preparations do you make to execute a particular shoot or project that you are excited about? Do you ever look back and find that nothing you had planned is what was done, yet you feel completely satisfied with the outcome?
DG: It always starts with curiosity which leads to a question. I’ll research and learn as much as I can before meeting with a person I’m going to photograph or a subculture I want to learn about. Often, when we meet in real life, much is different from my expectation. Then I get to quickly unlearn and discover something new that I couldn’t have learned without being in that moment, in that experience, and under those circumstances. This can be extremely satisfying and I hope to make work that conveys that discovery.
MK: Do you have any other creative pursuits, or has photography become the one obsession that always takes precedence?
DG: I’m naturally curious and I dip my toes into many bodies of water to satisfy that need. I’ve always been connected to food and that’s part of my upbringing, professional life, and creative practice. Cooking is a place in which I can experiment, express, create, and surprise, and it’s a safe space to fail. I don’t really care for recipes; it’s more about an idea. Then I look at what I have, followed by trying to make something new in the way I imagine it can be. There are many failures, but there are those days where everything comes together like magic and that gives me a similar high to when photo magic happens. I feel like there are parallels between cooking and the practice of making images. You don’t know if you’re doing it right, what you’re going to get, or if it’s any good until after it’s done.
During the pandemic I’ve taken up bicycling, which has been transformative for me on many levels. I’ve also been experimenting with motion and sound to help me tell stories when I approach the limitations of still photography. Collecting photo books – let’s not get started on that. Ultimately, the still image has held my imagination and interest. It is my longest obsession.
MK: Over the years, the tools we use to make photographs have changed in dramatic ways, not to mention the vehicles we use to promote the final works we make. How do you keep up with these changes and do you see there being any further significant change as we continue to progress?
DG: At times, it all feels like it is evolving quickly. With AI technology I’m very curious as to how that will play out. There is the question of whether or not a photographer will be needed if the camera becomes smart enough. I believe the answer is yes, especially for some types of work. As artists we bring our lived experiences and attempt to express our ideas through our voices, which have been shaped by those experiences. Technology is always interesting and I’m excited to explore any tools that will help me express and share stories.
MK: Do you study what others are doing in the photography or art world, and do you find their influence in your image-making?
DG: As an image maker I’m obsessed with seeing. I’m always looking. I’m influenced by things I see in my daily life in museums, galleries, advertisements, magazines, artist talks, and Instagram. They all inform my work in some way individually and collectively.
MK: What steps do you pursue in order to find an audience for your photographs?
DG: To be honest, making the work is intuitive to me, but finding the audience is less so and isn’t something I think about until much later in the process. The work is everything and I need to find appropriate ways of disseminating it to audiences that can connect with it.
MK: Even with a worldwide pandemic going on, there are a great many artists out there continuing to either make or promote their work. Has this time had any benefit for you and do you have anything coming up that you’d like us to know about?
DG: The pandemic has been a very difficult time when we all have experienced varying levels of personal loss. It’s also been an intense time for reflection for me personally. It’s been a productive time to rearrange priorities while looking back at my practice and looking forward with less self-imposed restriction. The pandemic gave me the space to step back and breathe. We are on this earth for a shorter amount of time than we are aware of and this moment is a very real reminder of our mortality. It’s confirmed my passion for learning about others and telling their stories.
I tend to work on various long-term projects in different stages and I’ve started a few during the pandemic. I’ve instinctively been writing a journal through the pandemic as a way to immortalize this experience while photographing my experiences. This idea of turning the camera inward versus toward others is uncomfortable, but I’ve been compelled to do so. I’ve been working on a few personal projects about loss and transformation. I believe in the idea of collecting and then making sense of it all later.
I’ve also recently been working outside my core of making still images and writing an essay on how becoming an American made me lose some of the innocence I had been holding onto. I hope to find a way to share that in the near future.
You can find more of Daniel's work on his website here.
All photographs, ©Daniel Gonçalves