Issue 38
The Show Goes On
Ideas for the Creative Mind
I have gradually broadened the list of cities I photograph, from London to Rome, Lisbon, New York, and now Singapore.
This is, by nature, a slow process. I only really begin to notice the interesting within the ordinary once I know a city’s streets.
London and Rome are not just large cities; they are vast. London is roughly twice the size of New York’s five boroughs, while Rome sits somewhere between the two. To truly know any of them would take a good chunk of my lifetime. By knowing, I mean developing an intuitive sense of a city’s ebb and flow, and what constitutes a respectful distance. A hint: in London it is farther than in either Rome or New York. Romans are almost always up for a chat—and, when stylishly dressed, often willing to pose—while New Yorkers are either in too much of a hurry or simply don’t care if I work in close proximity. Londoners, on the other hand, can get sniffy, even though the law does not favour claims to a “private space” in public.
I am currently sequencing the images I made on the streets of Singapore in 2025. Singapore was a doozy—but only because I used to live there and walked its streets camera in hand. From day one, both the streets and the people were generous. I walked away several kilos lighter—the upside of hours on foot in 31°C heat and mid‑eighties humidity—and with a thick stack of negatives.
I
I have been experimenting with alternative, entirely digital workflows for sequencing negatives. Unfortunately, these approaches slow me down. I find it harder to spot relationships both across a series and within a sequence.
Sometimes it’s best not to be clever.
II
My preferred method of sequencing images is delightfully analogue. After an initial cull that leaves only the negatives I am willing to show, I send this selection off to the printers. I always choose the cheapest printing method and paper—usually C‑type prints on standard Fuji stock—because quality is not the point. Nor is rendering. I print them correctly exposed, with flat contrast and minimal sharpening.
I start by sorting the stack chronologically by day, spreading each day’s shoot out on a large surface1.
I look for strong sequences—complementary images that build toward a natural end point. Practically, this means searching for an establishing image, one or more detail shots, a portrait, a few fillers that help set context and tone, and a closing image.
If a sequence is weak, I simply drop it on the floor. Juno knows what to do with those.
III
I find sequencing works best when some time has passed between making the images and working on them. This allows infatuation to give way to something more substantive.
After the initial sequencing of vignettes—liberally bookmarked with annotated index cards—I start again. This time I am guided by intuition: perhaps a pop of colour here, a reflection there, a hint of movement somewhere else. Photograph. Rinse. Repeat.
You read that correctly—I actually use my smartphone for something. These reference photographs make it easy to see where my mind goes each time I shuffle that giant deck of cards.
In the Spotlight
When I feel stuck, I pin the sequence on the wall above the editing table and write myself a small note: Sit with me.
Over the next few days, when I take a break from processing and writing, I return to look at that sequence. Eventually, I see it. In this week’s Spotlight, the central image—the anchor—was weak. It was cut and replaced with what had been the opening image. Look closely and you will see a rhythm of colour, context, and life building up and then winding down.
Once satisfied, I return to the computer and begin processing.
One or Two Quotes
I
“A photograph is usually looked at—seldom looked into.”
— Ansel Adams
II
“The meaning is not in the thing itself, but in the arrangement of things.”
— Georges Perec
(Bonus) Question
What are you doing with the thousands of photographs on your smartphone? A thoughtful edit of your 2025 images might make a meaningful gift for someone you love.
That’s a wrap. As the year slows and the days shorten, this might be a good moment to share this note with someone who enjoys photography, visual storytelling, or collecting finely crafted prints. Or hit reply and say hello—I’m usually nearby, editing or walking off another cup of coffee.
Johan du Preez
The studio floor is no longer viable, as my playful German Pinscher thinks prints make excellent confetti.