Al J Thompson

Al J Thompson

Born in the island of Jamaica, Al J Thompson moved to an immigrant community in suburban New York in the year 1996. Two decades later he noticed the dramatic changes to the place he once knew, projected by what he termed as 'political figures coiled with greed'.

As a devotee to the science of Psychology and Visual Arts, Thompson sets out to convey the nuances that he believes are circumstances of societal turmoil. His rhythmic approach to photography, at times envelopes people, places, and things that often generates poetic dialogue with subtlety ­– one that he perceives is consistent to the impression that all things relate.

Thompson has been published in several magazines including PDN, BOOOOOOOM, Ain’t-Bad, The New Yorker, C-41, La Vie, Photo Emphasis, Viewfind, Rocket Science, among others.

Visit Al J Thompson’s website to see more of his work.

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

Interview by Dana Stirling

I always like starting with this question – how did you first originally start with photography? What was it about photography that captures your attention and therefore your artistic practice?

I suppose I’ll begin stating how typical it was that photography and I having crossed paths many times before; mainly during the last year of high school and college. During my major in graphic design I’d feel this nudge to own a camera. Then I took a prerequisite darkroom course and temporarily became hooked. Years later I took a design job in NYC. I came to the realization that I needed to own a camera. 

One day on my way to work I made the decision to stop off at a small electronic store blocks away from Bryant Park. The first one purchased was a cropped frame digital camera that breathed new life into me as an artist. 

Everyday presented the rebirth of a new challenge. I’d eventually go deep into research mode for years; until I came out as a more well-rounded photographer as time passed. I guess my endless research of bookmarking the best photographers in the world, and photo assisting heavily contributed to what I am today.

I know you were born in the island of Jamaica and have moved to New York back in 1996. As someone who immigrated here from another country myself, I would love to hear your immigration experience and how do you feel it has affected the way you photograph and choose your subject matters?

 New York has been my second home from the moment I migrated here; though, I would refrain from saying that it was ever an easy transition. It was not. My accent was apparent, and the clothing I wore during my high school days were anything but ‘cool’. I somewhat settled with new friends who were also from the Caribbean. Migrating here had left me with an entire history of the island disappearing. I lost contact with practically every single one of my friends, which is partly my fault. I was horrible at communicating from a distance. Maybe that’s the main reason why I chase nostalgia. My experiences on the island were unforgettable, especially when ventured by youth-hood. So there’s always these connections drawn when photographing a community.

Nothing will ever move me more than reliving a piece of memory. Overall, nostalgia is a short window of experience that draws me closer to the place of my birth.

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

In your project “Remnants of an Exodus” you photograph a Caribbean community in Spring Valley where you wrote that they are “under the threat of gentrification”. The work is highlighting the tension in this location and how a culture is being pushed aside. This project definitely ties to the question above. I would be interested in hearing more about this work in your words. How was your experience working on this project? What was the hardest part about it?

When I initially set out to document ROAE I primarily wanted to photograph both victims and perpetrators. My intent had everything to do with traditional fact-finding journalism and avoiding the ‘pitfalls’ of opinions. One of the first set of portraits I took was of the three women hanging out by the kids playground. Later I learned that the only frame that I exposed of them was the single most defining moment of the entire project, and perhaps my career. Upon finally settling with a particular direction in the project I caught myself deeply observing me. It was something that was sizably more complex than I’d imagine.

That process had parallels. They were nostalgic and terrifying. Possessing the strength to imagine the past so vividly, can be as jubilant as it is daunting. Jubilant because as kids your community and world become this far-reaching magical heaven. And daunting knowing that this magical heaven is unattainable outside of the now. And I have a problem with how rulers of society contribute to the now. The original Ten Commandments movie addressed those same issues of greed and self-indulgence. 

From looking at your overall work history, I can definitely see that you have a passion and great skill for portrait photography. It always feels like each portrait, regardless of the situation it is taken in or what type of work it is (personal or commissioned) your images always have a great sense of storytelling. You are able to capture these people’s soul and essence in a, what seems to be, effortless way. Can you tell us what you love about portrait photography? How is your experience as the photographer behind the lens when you meet and photograph these people?

Well, thank you! ‘Portrait photography can be seen as meditative as far as I’m concerned’. I continue to seek the decisive moment in their eyes. A big part of that is based on trust and engagement between myself and the sitter(s). I believe that’s my strongest asset...being able to speak and understand people beyond the surface. I credit my grandmother who played a huge role in what I am today. Living with her on the island instilled in me the process of connecting with people I’ve never met before. It reminds me of meeting someone for the first time (pre-Covid) and you shake their hands. It’s an exchange of unseen energy. Today’s Covid world shows us that staying confined in one space for so long without physical interaction with others can sometimes be a death sentence. 

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

As a documentary photographer, what has been the most rewarding story you captured and why?

I think it’s a culmination of how I go about photographing life. I won’t be able to point you towards a specific example, because I have many. However, if I’m to choose it’s of my son and daughter...being able to look them in their eyes as if I’m looking at myself. I’m working on this long-term project that entails childhood and how I’m reliving my dream through the act of storytelling. 

In your project Omar & AbdullAah's you documented this barbershop in Atlantic City, New Jersey. I’ve seen in the past photographic stories about barbershops as they are really an interesting cultural bubble that is very intriguing. However, in your work it just feels different somehow. I think it goes back to what I mentioned about your skill and ability to capture people in a unique way. For me I could really feel the life of these individuals, their eyes are just looking right into me and they are really mesmerizing. The one photo I particularly couldn’t stop looking at was the young boy getting his hair cut. I don’t have a question per se, but I would love to hear about this project from you and how it was documenting this place? How did it start and what did you feel once you finished the project?

I visit Atlantic City every year with about ten friends for a three-day weekend birthday celebration. Some are into gambling. I’m not. But we hang out, talk, and do various things without compromising the integrity of who we are. This year I decided not to attend for obvious reasons.

One morning I took a walk for a couple of hours away from the casinos and into some of the more harder economically hit areas in the city. I remembered how sunny, cold, and windy it was that Saturday morning. As I was walking on the streets someone from the inside shouted, “yow, you take professional photos?” I replied, “yea I take pictures.” He then invited me into his barbershop and asked if I could grab some shots. Haha, I loved that! I spent about two hours hanging around taking pictures of almost everyone. Although the tv was on I tend to block everything that could possibly interrupt my ‘being’ at the time. It was a great experience.

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

On your Instagram account (@aljthompson.photo) you post photos of your family and you usually write captions that are very detailed or full of events and nuances. I am interested in knowing how you approach photographing your kids? Is it a different dynamic than when you photograph others? How do they react to your photography and the final image of themselves? And in addition, if you could let us in the process of your captions and text and its importance to you.

It’s a different world concerning my kids. They have extremely short attention span, which means I’ll have a tight window with them. They seem to love the end results, but they’re so used to me shooting them that I can’t recall any of my images ever phasing them more recently. I must say, they’re far more impressed with a Snapchat photo of a face with big eyes and cat faces. And I don’t ever take it personal. Why should I?

The love for photography reintroduced my love for writing. Did I ever mention I was an aspiring rap artist in my late teen years? I have a love for poetry, and photography played a huge role in writing again. They both are conceptually similar, although one is more economically viable than the other. I’ve grown so close to writing that I’ll feel a lot more connected to it than the process of photographing; at times. So despite my love for visual arts, being able to communicate with literature can gift the reader with unlimited ways of processing stories internally. I saw how words can become spells in how they dictate people moving forward. Blending visual art with literature is an unimaginable exercise. Its success requires complete dedication in the two art forms.

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

For me much of your work feels very poetic and enigmatic. It never feels simple it always has more hidden layers that we should dig through to reveal even more of the story or who this person/place is. Would you consider your work in this way yourself?

That’s big compliment! I endure a lot of heaviness from this huge construct of society around us. I’d like to think that my photographs are mainly driven by my subconsciousness being able to communicate each time I find myself and a camera mingling with the outside world. There’s some truth to being an observer of things but not fully understanding what lies beneath the surface. Consider the fact that none of us fully understand who we are and what our ultimate home will look like after the transitional period of death; it personally fascinates me.

In the end my photographs are the antithesis of an opened book because each image contains an unsurmountable amount of layers. And as soon as you decide to put them together to read as a collective storyline you’ve just added another layer on top of that. This is in addition to the biased constructs within the psyche of each viewer, and how they go about interpreting these layers. I’m not sure whether I’ve answered the question or not, but the fundamentals of how I photograph consist of the way I view the world — a magical piece of poetry that consistently leaves me in awe. 

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

I would want to also ask how have you been during this pandemic? I hope you and your family are safe and healthy of course! I am curious to hear your experience as an artist, has anything changed for you? How was your experience? Did you document your family during this time? Did it affect your work practice in any way?

The most challenging time of my life would probably have to be Covid-19 in 2020. I had dreams of this. They’re called premonitions. It caught me by surprise being a live witness as I never knew it would’ve happened in my lifetime. Don’t we leave a global chaos like this up to our ancestors to fight and deal with, and then we read about them in the history books? It’s something far too large to rationalize since a global and cultural shift is underway. Surprisingly however, I think more about this than the actual physical severity of the virus. How our world reacts affect me on a metaphysical level because how the world reacts will consequently affect my way of life in the way we’re so interconnected. 

During the height of the pandemic I saw myself visiting the Bronx quite a few times. It was after a family member had contracted the virus. I began to document the streets nearby. The emptiness that I felt transitioned me into photographing the beauty around some of these poorer neighborhoods. It was just one way of coping. Another was hiking in the mountains. But even that wasn’t the same being on the trail where you had to keep six feet apart. That symbolized traditional burials six feet under. I felt so dead that I rallied around art, reading books, and writing. After the summer had arrived our local pool was [thankfully] opened. I’d go there almost every single day. It’s a world where I felt alive and so at ease; we were smiling again. 

An early summer’s afternoon I witness just about twelve to fifteen kids splashing water on each other. It’s difficult to quantify what it all meant. But it was a moment that saw the rebirth of happiness and how immensely important it is to live within that moment that will come to pass forever. It was one of the only times that I ever got to see a group of human beings as one towering gulp of energy cluster settling in one place. Sounds esoteric, I know. But that was poetry leading up to the end of the summer. Having my kids roam around in the woods and playing ball were even more satisfying. We worried about the conditions of their mental health. They needed that more than I did. 

What do you think is the hardest part of being a photographer in today’s scene? Do you think things have changed in how we make and consume photography?

It depends. The question is; what is the ultimate motive of that photographer? Is it to sustain income? With budget cuts across the board except for pharmaceutical companies I see huge stumbling blocks to make a living just from photography given the times we’re in. If the ultimate goal of a photographer is to create art then there’s an abundance of stories waiting around. It’s difficult to find the answers since it depends on the individual’s way of coping around a particular environment. I mean, the act of creating art does mean you’re living within the moment. Maybe that’s my best advice.

© Al J Thompson

© Al J Thompson

I’ve seen you advocating for other artists on your social media, which I am always a fan of sharing the love for people we admire as we are never in a competition with one another. Any artists you would love to give a shout out to, perhaps maybe artists our readers do not know yet? Who are some people who influence you and your work?

Viewing Matt Eich’s work for the first time pushed me into learning more about traditional photojournalism mixed with portraitures and storytelling. He’s a favorite of mine. But several years ago I stumbled on Shane Rocheleau’s work. I think we’re extremely alike in how we’d love to change the world. I had the privilege of knowing him over the years, and we go back and forth on ideas. But make no mistake, he’s been advising me for a very long time. Part of his work centered on the confrontation of the idealism of ‘White Supremacy’. He’s the only person of Caucasian decent [that I know of] who turned the mirror on himself to expose a system in which he himself is a direct beneficiary of. Naysayers consider this as a form of White Guilt. I don’t think it’s a bad thing feeling some form of guilt considering how unbalanced our specie is given the lack of empathy.

Honestly, there are so many photographers who I deeply admire. Many of them I consider friends that it would take me an entire day to list them. 

You’ve been a photographer for many years now, what are some tips or what would be your biggest advice to fellow artists reading this interview?

Several years ago I had a brief discussion with Tara Wray about a story I was doing at the time. One of the best advices given to me was to keep shooting. I didn’t know what she meant until I found a voice. And I’ll add that it’s much easier to be yourself if you can tackle your own surroundings because each situation adds a unique value to the table. Don’t worry about the number of likes and followers that social media wants you to seek. I think it’s called dopamine. Society has its own capitalistic illusions that we fell prey to, so why not create your own little world?

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