Recently, I have found that there are only a few things in life that can touch me in a way that genuinely makes me feel alive. Awakening the warm, melancholic feelings is the presence of prints and photographs, possibly because of a different reality or a different moment in time, which a photograph has a possibility to take me to. In my mind, nothing beats some black and white, twentieth century film photography. On the other side of the spectrum, there are the ultimate highs, the chills and the excitement. The kind of emotional reactions that can, for me, stem only from a singular type of environment, and that is a competitive one. It does not even matter if I'm the one doing the work, or if I'm watching from the sidelines, the rush and the spirit of the sport is what keeps the adrenaline, endorphine and serotonine flowing, and, ultimately, what gives me a high that I haven't been able to find anywhere else.
During the past year, I have embraced the fact that those were the things that fulfilled me – I founded a platform that allowed me to further explore my love for photography and many other aspects of visual arts, and I even interviewed a few artists whose work is centered around sports. Experiencing the things you love through other people's work, words and perspectives forces you to look at what you already know, from different points of views. In many cases, in the process of rediscovering and exploring, you fall in love with the topic all over again.
The highlight of my year, however, was late in the summer, when I discovered the work of Jesse Alexander. Among other things, Jesse's work revolved around cars, fast cars, Formula 1. The epitome of speed, precision, thrill, calmness, focus… that he managed to package and seal with some human emotion, relatability, everydayness, interaction. Altogether, it ended up delivering the story of a truly historic sporting community and its unforgettable moments, on and near the race track.
Maybe it was the influence of Cartier-Bresson, maybe it was Jesse's connection to everyone and anyone he met on the street, regular, working people… but there certainly was something special about him that allowed him to catch and capture humanity with his lense. Especially in a context that had often been portrayed in a raw and cold manner, fuelled with visuals depicting speed, rather than everything that allowed the speed to become what it is in its true form, on the race track.
Despite all odds, Jesse came into the industry, basically a youngster, following his passion and, frankly, having fun with his craft. With a breath of tenderness, a curiosity like no other, and an approach unfamiliar to sports photograhy at the time – he made the industry reexamine the focus of their work, think about what all there is to be explored, and how many ways there are to approaching a single frame in the photography of sports.
There have been many incredible people who have had the pleasure of listening to Jesse talk about his life, his work, and all the things that made his life fulfilled, enjoyable, memorable and proud-to-have-been-lived. I wish I could have heard even a tenth of the stories he probably had up his sleeve at any given time, but still I remind myself that I am grateful to have his work live on. Sometimes, people pose the question of whether or not we should disassociate the art from the artist, but today I choose not to do so. If for anything, then to find some comfort – comfort in the fact that it was Jesse's mind that chose to capture a moment, that it is because of his vision that we are able to experience the message he wanted to deliver. It is because of Jesse, the artist, and the human, that we are able to smile with Phil Hill, be in awe of the ever-beautiful Monegasque streets, get drunk on the paddock atmosphere from the (g)olden days, and look at speed through a different light.
Getting familiar with Jesse and his work allowed me to take a deep dive into two of the things that make me ever-curious – film photography and professional sports. Not only did I enjoy his work, but I had stopped to appreciate everything artists do in regards to allowing us to see the world through their eyes. I appreciate every new angle, point of view that has been brought onto the scene, that lets the public embark on a journey of discovering new ideas, visions, feelings. From a different standpoint, Jesse's work has encouraged me to dig deeper into the history of Formula 1, the beginnings, the losses, the growth… It has made me want to know more. And it is a special satisfaction finding new gems in stories that have been long finished.
Views like Jesse's are waiting to be seen, all around you – not by critics and big editors, but by me and you and anyone else who is open to appreciating their talent. Find them and enjoy them. Learn about them, and from them. Soak it all up and pass it on.
Below is some of Jesse's work that, for me, served as a bridge from art to motorsport, brought them closer, and even intertwined the two. Jesse's work opened a whole new chapter and a way of thinking (in my book), and I am eternally grateful, not just for the aesthetical pleasure and the sense of connectedness within these photographs, but also for all the plans and paths that grew out of my exploration of these pieces of artwork.
Thank you, Jesse. Your impact left an imprint. Your presence will be an honest loss to everyone you touched with your persona and through your art. May you rest in peace.
There are many places you can visit to find out more about Jesse Alexander, but I suggest you start here.
Comments