Projects: Luke Evans

For acclaimed photographer Luke Evans, a recent trip to Japan proved to be a transformative experience, both personally and creatively. Long fascinated by the country's rich cultural heritage and deep reverence for the natural world, Evans decided to immerse himself in the landscape with his Pentax 67 camera.

Rather than relying on the instant feedback of digital photography, Evans chose to document his journey entirely on film, carrying just a single camera body and no backup. This risky yet rewarding approach forced him to work in a more deliberate and focused manner, carefully considering each shot before committing it to the frame. The resulting sense of anticipation and uncertainty would ultimately inspire a new aesthetic direction in Evans' work, embracing motion blur and abstraction to capture the ephemeral beauty of his surroundings.

As he shares this new collection, Evans hopes to inspire others to appreciate the fragile beauty of our natural world, marking a pivotal transition in his multifaceted photographic practice. The Japan project has reignited his creative spark, reconnecting him with the visceral joy of image-making that first drew him to the medium. 



“I was a pretty nerdy kid, thinking back on it now; I was more interested in the technology behind cameras, rather than actually taking pictures. My first camera was a little digital Kodak point-and-shoot I got for my birthday, which I used mostly to photograph my friends, making silly portraits—the kind you’d expect any 13-year-old to make. And although my family’s background isn’t particularly artistic, but I knew early on that I had some kind of creative drive. The truth is, I never really intended to be a photographer professionally, but a string of good luck and hard work meant that the opportunities eventually presented themselves. I remember being, sort of, repulsed by the idea of doing commercial work at first, as it felt at odds with the artwork I was making and was known for at the time. But then I realised I had to actually earn money.”



“My career in photography took off slowly and steadily, while I worked a part time job in a gift shop in Hereford. Early on, I struggled with showing both my artwork and commercial work side by side, because I felt that aesthetically it didn’t blend. There are some people whose work blends perfectly, but mine never did. It’s only now, as I’ve become more comfortable making the images I want to make and after a certain volume of work, that I feel satisfied with the two approaches living next to one another. Like with any hobby that becomes your job, there comes a point where you question why you started in the first place. It can become a problem if you’re not making things that you enjoy when work is scarce; this is the struggle with creativity because you can’t just ‘muscle through’, there has to be some sort of connection there.”



“Last year was tough; I had a lot more free time than I was used to, and I knew that I had to do something to make photography exciting for me again, or I’d be in big trouble. So I booked flights to Japan with an idea to just wander, exploring old towns, volcanoes, and cities, responding to anything around me. Maybe, I thought, I would make still life work there, or landscape, even portraiture, or maybe videos—I just knew I had to be somewhere fresh, alone. I’d like to say I just romantically floated about, but that’s not my style. No, I had a near hour-by-hour spreadsheet of it all. And thanks to Japan’s punctuality, it worked.”


“The trip was a deeply fulfilling experience, both personally and creatively. I had long felt drawn to the country's rich culture and reverence for nature. I started in Tokyo, then took the train to an old town called Magome where I stayed in a Zazen temple alongside the Nakasendo road. From there I hiked up through the Kiso Valley, all the way up to the volcanic region of Nagano, where in the tiniest Izakaya I happened to chat to the CEO of one of the biggest temples in Kyoto. There’s something really special about the space where broken Japanese and broken English come together.”



“Then I snaked my way down through the regions heading to Kyoto, and eventually made my way over to the island of Shikoku, where I spent a week driving around from east to west, from cavernous gorges to huge open plateaus. The trip rounded off in the Setonaikai National Park, a series of small islands linked by huge suspension bridges.”



“The funny thing about shooting on film is that you don't have the ability to reflect and adapt immediately like with digital, so you just have to take your best guess at what’s working. That said, sometimes I had a very precise image in my head of how some of the pictures would look, like the koi one. I was on a bridge in the Ritsurin Gardens and came across a mass of them being fed by an old couple. I had never seen so many in my life! They were moving so slowly and gracefully, I knew that if I nailed myself to the bridge and let the shutter open for half a second, I’d get something painterly. It was one of those images that although looks like an accident, called for every bit of confidence to know what I was doing, and to roll the dice.”



“This trip was simply about finding the fun in taking pictures again, responding to things, rather than building in the studio. But being back in the darkroom, now, reflecting over the years of being repeatedly being called back to the landscape, I’m starting to realise why I love it, and why it’s important to me. Beauty’s a complicated word, but I hope the images provoke some sense of appreciation and respect for what’s around us.”




To see more of luke's work and his newly launched website, please click here

Portraits shot on Leica R8 / 35mm Summicron / Kodak Portra 400 by Jonnie Craig