Interview with William Josephs Radford — Contemporary Art Curator Magazine

William Josephs Radford is a renowned fine art photographer celebrated for his visually striking and conceptually challenging work. Raised in rural Andalucía, Spain, Radford’s unique upbringing deeply influences his exploration of societal taboos and human behavior. His photography often juxtaposes aesthetic beauty with provocative symbols like condoms, crucifixes, and cigarettes, creating a tension that invites viewers to reconsider traditional moral values.

Radford's work has earned significant recognition in the art world. He has been featured on the covers of F-Stop and Al-Tiba9 magazines and has received numerous accolades, including the International Photography Award (Official Selection), an Honourable Mention in the FotoNostrum Pollux Award, and finalist position in the Boynes Award. He has also been nominated for the 7th and 9th Fine Art Photography Awards and the Refocus Awards.

Inspired by avant-garde artists like Andres Serrano and Sophie Calle, Radford uses innovative photographic techniques to push the boundaries of contemporary art. His projects provoke strong reactions, sparking discussions that challenge both aesthetic comfort zones and societal norms, solidifying his place as a significant figure in modern photography.

Your work often combines visually appealing elements with provocative subject matter. How do you think this juxtaposition challenges the viewer's aesthetic comfort zones and traditional moral values? Could you elaborate on the psychological impact this contrast has on your audience, and discuss any intentional cognitive dissonance you aim to induce through your compositions?

I believe the power of art often lies in its ability to be both visually compelling and intellectually challenging. When art engages the viewer aesthetically while also confronting deeper themes, it pushes beyond mere beauty and enters a space where it can provoke thought and introspection. Art that only excels in one area often feels incomplete, with the exception of movements like anti-aestheticism, where discomfort and rejection of beauty are intentional.

In my work, I aim to strike a balance between visual appeal and thought-provoking content. I believe this balance has become more difficult to achieve as the boundaries of art continue to evolve. Viewers today, I feel, are somewhat desensitized to the shock factor often found in contemporary art. They almost expect a dramatic or tragic backstory and can sometimes be left disappointed when the narrative doesn't meet those expectations, particularly if the artist comes from a more conventional background.

What I strive for is a reaction that unfolds gradually. Ideally, a viewer might appreciate one of my pieces purely for its aesthetic value at first glance. Then, upon learning more about the deeper context or message behind the work, they are faced with a contrast that challenges their initial perception. This is where I aim to induce cognitive dissonance—a moment of discomfort as they reconcile the tension between surface beauty and underlying meaning.

Considering your admiration for avant-garde artists like Andres Serrano, Sophie Calle, and Sally Mann, can you identify a particular piece or series by any of these artists that significantly altered your perspective on art? How do you assimilate their groundbreaking methods into your own work while maintaining a distinct voice that challenges contemporary art norms?

Andres Serrano’s 'Immersions' series, particularly 'Piss Christ', had a profound impact on my perspective of art. The sheer audacity of the concept—creating something so deeply controversial—immediately captured my attention. What struck me was how something that initially offended so many could eventually be recognized as a pivotal contribution to modern art. The cultural shift from outrage to acceptance highlighted the role of art in challenging societal boundaries and norms.

Serrano’s portraits of dead children also influenced the trajectory of my artistic journey. I first encountered his work during my time at university, and it completely reshaped my understanding of what could be considered art. Before that, I couldn’t imagine that such provocative imagery would be accepted in the art world. Yet, it soon became clear that many of the artists we studied—the ones who were most celebrated—were those who stirred the most controversy, such as Nan Goldin, Philip-Lorca diCorcia, and Andreas Gursky. This drove home the idea that to make a lasting impact, one often had to push boundaries and challenge comfort zones.

Sophie Calle’s work further sparked my interest in the ethics of voyeurism and privacy. Her ability to capture moments that feel intimate or invasive, without ever crossing into the overtly controversial territory of Serrano, offered a different kind of provocation. Projects like Suite Vénitienne and her hotel room series made me feel as though I was witnessing something I wasn’t meant to see. Her work plays with the discomfort of surveillance and personal space, and this has influenced my own explorations of observation in my photography.

For me, it's not about deliberately offending for the sake of it, but rather recognizing when a piece has the potential to provoke a reaction and using that to engage in dialogue about complex issues. The power of symbolism to elicit strong emotional responses from the viewer is something I’ve adopted from these artists. As I’ve often said, to have no reaction is far worse than a bad one. The last thing an artist should want is for their work to be met with indifference.

Over time, I’ve absorbed these approaches and integrated them into my own practice. Earlier in my career, the influence of these artists was more evident. For example, my Holy Smokes series (fig. 1) was heavily inspired by Serrano, and my Door to Door project was a nod to Shizuka Yokomizo’s work. However, as my practice has evolved, it's become harder to trace direct connections to specific artists. Instead, it’s the ethos—the drive to provoke thought, to challenge, and to create art that evokes a reaction—that remains a core part of my process.

In your photography, symbols such as condoms, crucifixes, and cigarettes recur frequently. What is your process for selecting these particular symbols, and how do they serve as a narrative framework within your compositions? Additionally, can you discuss how these symbols interact within your pieces to construct a dialogue on societal taboos and human behavior?

In my photography, symbols like condoms, crucifixes, and cigarettes serve as essential tools for conveying deeper narratives. These objects are carefully chosen not just for their visual impact, but for their ability to carry complex cultural and emotional weight, often tied to societal taboos and human behavior. My process for selecting these symbols often stems from a desire to explore conflicting or ambiguous ideas, such as gender roles, power dynamics, and intimacy, using familiar yet provocative imagery.

For instance, the use of condoms originated from my struggle to understand gendered objects in Spanish while growing up in Spain with a British background. In Spanish, objects are assigned genders—‘el mar’ for the sea (masculine), ‘la silla’ for the chair (feminine)—a concept I found perplexing since English uses neutral articles like ‘the.’

To express this confusion, I created a series called Objectification featuring objects designed to be inserted into each other, suggesting they had their own gendered relationships. I then used a condom on the "penetrating" object to amplify this idea of objects having sex, with the series lit in red to evoke romance and love. Through this process, I employed symbols to tell a story, using semiotics to guide the narrative and spark a conversation about gender and identity (see Figures. 2, 3, 4).

As my work has evolved, I've sought to explore these concepts in more subtle ways. In the Deflowered project (Fig. 5, 6, 7), I used pornography to light flowers during long-exposure photography, essentially "light tainting" the floral arrangements with explicit content. The result is a series of glowing, beautiful compositions where nothing explicit is visible, but the viewer is aware that the light source comes from something taboo. The flowers, in this case, are only visible because they’ve been "bathed" in pornographic light, creating a commentary on how beauty and obscenity can coexist beneath the surface.

Similarly, in my Exposed series, I captured intimate self-portraits but intentionally overexposed the images until they were entirely white. While the final result shows nothing but a blank white image, the hidden content—me in private, vulnerable moments—creates an interaction between visibility and privacy. The viewer is left to imagine what might be beneath the overexposed image, raising questions about voyeurism and personal boundaries.

In recent works, I’ve moved away from relying solely on physical symbols like condoms or crucifixes and have instead used the method of photography itself to carry symbolic weight. By manipulating exposure, light, and composition, I aim to create layers of meaning that challenge the viewer’s perception and invite deeper reflection on societal norms, without the need for obvious symbols.

Given the controversial nature of your themes, could you share insights into a particularly impactful or surprising interpretation of your work by the audience? How have these reactions influenced your approach to new projects, and have they ever prompted you to alter your artistic trajectory?

One of the most surprising reactions to my work came from the aforementioned Exposed project, which has sparked a range of responses—some validating and others quite baffling. There were moments when I thought I had either stumbled upon something profound or was completely out of touch with reality.

The first instance occurred when the series was selected for an exhibition at the Florence Contemporary Gallery. I had submitted these images to an open call, and they accepted my work, requesting the high-resolution files for display. However, when I sent the files, they responded with confusion, saying, "For some unknown reason, all the JPGs you sent are completely blank." I explained that this was intentional—the concept was to translate the idea of white paintings into photography, a medium that traditionally relies on visible content. I believe I’m one of the first to attempt this. In the end, they proceeded with the exhibition, and everything turned out fine, but that initial reaction made me realize how unconventional the project was.

The second reaction came when I proposed the series for a newspaper article. After explaining the concept and sending the journalist my work, we had a fantastic conversation the following day. He seemed to grasp the idea completely, even admitting that he had tried to darken the images in Photoshop, thinking there might be hidden details beneath the overexposed surfaces. He said the article would be published the next day. However, I never heard from him again. No article was published, and despite my attempts to follow up, he completely ghosted me. It was an odd and frustrating experience, leaving me questioning whether the project had missed the mark or if it was simply too ahead of its time.

For a little while, these experiences led me to stop trying to convince the world that these blank images held artistic value, though I still believe the project could have gained attention under the right circumstances. Ultimately, it was a lesson in managing expectations. While I had hoped for more recognition or understanding of the work’s deeper concept, the reactions taught me that not all ideas will resonate immediately or with everyone.

Your exploration of sensitive topics like pornography addiction presents potential ethical dilemmas in terms of representation and viewer impact. How do you navigate these ethical considerations in your creative process, and what guidelines do you follow to balance artistic expression with social responsibility?

My approach is to spark personal reflection rather than follow rigid rules. I create art that deeply resonates with me, aiming for a level of impact where I'd feel envious if another artist made something similar.

Though my themes can be controversial, I’m careful about their potential impact and strive to embed a positive message. In my Deflowered project, for example, I hope to encourage a more sensitive perspective in a world that often feels numb to explicit content. I’m happy to share my thoughts behind the work but prefer to let viewers interpret it in their own way. My explanations offer hints and help with engagement, but the meaning you find is entirely your own.

In my Merging Moments project, one image features a stop sign layered with a graffiti peace sign (Fig. 8). By juxtaposing these symbols through in-camera double exposures, I create visual dialogues that provoke thought. I’m not pushing a "stop peace" message but value how this combination can inspire various interpretations.

What technical challenges do you frequently encounter in your unique style of photography, particularly when integrating vibrant colors with dark thematic elements? Have you developed any specific photographic techniques or utilized innovative technology to overcome these challenges, enhancing the visual and emotional impact of your work?

I love this question because it encapsulates one of my core beliefs currently. Throughout my practice, I have come to learn a variety of techniques, each with its own quirks. Over the years of collecting these methods, I have come to appreciate their ability to enhance the message I am trying to convey. I have likened it in the past to learning a new language; there may be a feeling or emotion that can't quite be described in one language but already exists in another.

Recently, I adopted ICM, ghosting, and lens masking to convey a sense of being Semi-Detached, as shown in figures 9, 10, and 11. The series was conducted during a difficult stage of my life when I used alcohol and marijuana as a form of escapism.

These colors are an artifact of each technique, usually translating into a vibrant reflection of my inner psyche. I use a lot of flash gels and light painting, so with these techniques, it's quite easy to inject a chosen color into the frame.

As previously mentioned, I also want my work to be aesthetically pleasing. So when selecting pornographic content for the Deflowered project, I intentionally look for scenes with interesting colors or lighting.

It all comes down to the cognitive dissonance we mentioned earlier: I want my work to be marketable but also test the viewer. It's my job as an artist to tease out the beauty from these difficult topics, or rather, transform the uncomfortable into something palatable.

How has your upbringing in the distinct cultural landscape of rural Andalucía shaped your thematic choices and artistic expressions? Can you elaborate on how specific local traditions or personal experiences from your background are reflected in your use of themes and imagery?

One of my projects delves deeply into this by returning to my childhood home to explore the environment that shaped my character.

Growing up in rural Andalucía exposed me to sensitive topics at an early age, particularly the concept of death. I vividly recall moments like dealing with the death of a cat and being asked by my mother to throw it over the fence into the neighbor's garden, or the time a sheep got tangled and hung itself on the swing set. I also remember the family gathering around to watch a pig die, thinking it was giving birth. These experiences left a lasting impression on me.

In addition to themes of life and death, the natural beauty and freedom of my childhood were significant influences. We lived just a short walk from a picturesque river, which became the backdrop for countless hours of exploration and adventure. My days were spent making rope swings, building shelters, and engaging in outdoor activities like playing with knives, setting fires, catching turtles, and shooting pellet guns. This rustic setting provided an immense sense of freedom and a deep connection to nature, but it also came with its own challenges.

These moments, among others, profoundly influenced my outlook and are reflected in my Character Building series (Fig. 12-15). For example, the more dignified loss and burial of 'Queen Silly' is depicted in figure 12, while the circle of life is illustrated by a cactus dying from a cochineal infestation in figure 13.

Culturally, my upbringing was a blend of Spanish and British traditions. While my parents were well-integrated into the Spanish community, we maintained many British customs at home. Growing up bilingual—speaking Spanish at school and English at home—allowed me to interpret the world from multiple perspectives. This duality enriched my understanding and created a unique viewpoint. Additionally, being raised atheist in a predominantly Christian environment added another layer of complexity to my childhood, further shaping my worldview.

Through projects like "Deflowered," you engage with deeply entrenched social issues using art as a medium for dialogue. How do you perceive the role of art in instigating societal reflection and potential change concerning sensitive issues? What challenges have you faced in using art as a tool for social commentary, and how have you addressed them?

I believe that art's impact is heightened when it provokes strong reactions, both positive and negative. If everyone agrees, art loses its power to spark dialogue and inspire change. The true value lies in generating diverse opinions and discussions about the issues presented.

An example of this is a publicity stunt I orchestrated for my graduation. Due to COVID and a lack of post-university employment, I attended the ceremony wearing bin bags to highlight the high costs of academic regalia. This stunt, which I sent to a few news outlets, went viral, reaching over a billion people worldwide. Reactions were sharply divided: the media portrayed me as a hero challenging unnecessary expenses, while many comments criticized me for distracting from the achievements of other graduates.

Although this performance piece garnered significant attention, it did not directly benefit my career as an artist, nor did it lead to financial gain. However, it successfully initiated a conversation and served as a platform for dialogue.

This experience underscores that while art has immense potential to drive change, it also comes with challenges. The impact of a work of art can be unpredictable, and its reception may diverge from the creator's original intentions.

With the rapid evolution of digital and multimedia art forms, how do you envision the future of fine art photography? What innovations or directions do you believe will become crucial in the next decade, and how do you plan to integrate these advancements into your own artistic practice?

It's hard to discuss the future of fine art photography without acknowledging the rapid rise of artificial intelligence, especially knowing I’ll be using ChatGPT to spell check these very answers! While AI might seem like a threat to the medium, I see it as an exciting tool that can complement traditional photography rather than replace it.

I’ve already begun integrating AI into my process. I often ChatGPT to test out ideas and see if a concept has potential. It’s also an incredible resource for research—when I'm exploring a theme, instead of spending hours online, I can ask AI for insights on whether similar projects exist or how other artists have tackled a subject.

As image generation technology advances, it's a bit unsettling to imagine what the future might hold. However, as someone who minimizes Photoshop use in my work, I firmly believe AI won’t replace photography. Instead, it will serve as a powerful tool that enhances the creative process, allowing artists to push boundaries in new and unexpected ways.

Reflecting on your career, how has your engagement with challenging themes and the public's reactions to them shaped your personal and artistic identity? Could you discuss a specific project that marked a significant point in your personal growth or altered your approach to creating art?

Engaging with challenging themes has been both rewarding and eye-opening. While public reactions to my work have generally been positive, certain experiences have inevitably shaped my artistic identity

One memorable instance was when my piece Fag Christ (Fig. 1)—featuring a metallic Jesus on a cigarette cross—was pulled from an auction due to its provocative title. The word "fag" was considered too offensive, even though it was supposed to refer to the cigarettes. This experience made it clear that the gallery wasn’t the right space for my work, teaching me the importance of aligning my art with the right audience.

Another significant experience wasn't about the artwork itself but the process of creating it. During a hip-fire session for my Sun, Sand, and Salesmen project, I photographed a Gypsy who immediately called me over and held a knife to my waist, threatening to stab me if I didn't delete the photo.

Both of these experiences have deepened my understanding of the complex dynamics between art, intent, and public perception. They've pushed me to navigate these challenges while staying true to my vision.

https://josephsradford.com