Artist Statement

Thank you to An-my Le, Sasha Phyars-Burgess, my friends, and family.

Writing this, the tone I wish to convey is that of change. My tendency is to be cartesian, and view my personal growth as something that rests on the input of others and a comparison to unreachable standards. I have always been inspired by myself, but being the sensitive person that I am, that hasn't always meant that I've had faith in myself too. Inspired by our world, and fascinated by cameras, the gift I wanted most for my eighth birthday was--- a camera. Since that birthday I've had many cameras, and a lot of challenges with myself and the work that I do. Constantly trying to achieve a sense of perfection, bringing me down as I dismiss my work and refuse to evolve past myself and my preconceptions. Until my first year in college. Two professors had brought me down to earth: first, An-my Le told me that my eye is true. My eyes go where my pictures follow--- I cannot judge with my mind, but with my eyes. Second, Sasha Phyars-Burgess taught me that identity isn't a truth; such is why my eyes must lead. An identity is ever evolving and ever shifting; attempting to define it is dishonest to your journey.

So, I wish for my work to be a continual new emergence of my identity, embracing change. I've chosen my artist label in this way: "G" is Gaspard, my name, "H" my middle name, Henri, and "K" stands for "Konem," a made-up word combining 'Nikon' and 'EM.' (Thus, from the 1980 Nikon EM) Whereas my logo is a picture I took of a plate of hummus, I looked down and noticed that my pieces of bread, with which I had been eating it, had left a fun drawing on my plate.

Attempting to connect with the world by creating convoluded bridges dilutes genuine connections. What I know is where I've already been, what I've already seen, and that I don't always know how I feel about those things.

Change; I can only become more aware of myself.

My past with Photography

When I was little my grandfather gifted me a yellow Nikon point and shoot camera; that was my introduction to photography. Running around the house and going on trips, trying out different filters and slideshows, it was practically my greatest joy up until the day that I thought waterproof meant I could open the battery door--- underwater--- to make it sit still enough for a self-portrait.

Stock image of Nikon COOLPIX camera — My first camera.

My tendency is to be cartesian, and view my personal growth as something that rests on the input of others and the comparison to unreachable standards. This was what pushed me away from photography after breaking my first little Nikon; while my second only came when I first pushed back on those negative thoughts.

Like many others, my experience of middle school was a mixed bag; but the fact that I felt so demotivated by my classmates made me cynical and mean. The COVID-19 lockdown in France, where I grew up, lasted merely three months, which gave me a safe space to heal a little bit from those negativities. Then buying myself a gaming laptop that would be my gateway into the technical world--- cameras, computers, and becoming the lighting technician for my theatre teacher's plays in eighth grade. I slowly inched my way back into my interests.

First photo taken with Nikon camera — This was my middle school.

But the comparison was still there. My classmates still weren't supportive, nor were they open to the arts or general curiosity you had to be an expert in everything you spoke about, or excel in whatever you did quietly. I only kept two friends from middle school.

My teachers there, back home, were amazing for the most part. But the strict professional relationship culture that there is between teachers and students in France made me less comfortable to simply inquire casually whenever I had a slightly off topic question. That kind of casual comfort with my teachers only came around the corner when I moved to San Diego, California, my freshman year of high school.

At the end of those three weeks, I got to choose an actual schedule for my sophomore year, where I chose a couple of APs and such but ended up with two teachers that would allow me to grow out of my shell a little more : Mr.Schiller and Mr.West. Both amazing teachers, but also amazing adults that could handle a class environment in an interactive way.

More happens in this story of my life, but the rest speaks for itself through my documentary Dear Students, where I go much more in depth about how I feel about these teachers. What counts is that from that point on I never let go. I'm still figuring things out in my busy creative mind, and I stay relentless.