Justin Mikhail Solomon’s photography is a response to today’s fast-paced digital world

Justin Mikhail Solomon has always been an avid photographer. The first and most influential factor in his upbringing was his father who, despite never considering himself a photographer, always carried a camera by his side. The second was his family’s photo albums, which Justin would absorb and flick through with great interest. “I loved seeing photos of my family members when they were either my age or in these states that no longer seemed attached to them,” the St. Louis-based creative tells It’s Nice That. “It always allowed me to see how time had passed around them and they had evolved.”

Much like his father, Justin similarly avoids the term 'photographer' when describing himself. Instead, he looks at the medium as if it were a time capsule – a means of documenting his surroundings in the most efficient way he knows. “I never really knew I wanted to be a photographer per se,” he says. “What I did know was that I wanted to make images and photography was, and is still, the easiest way for me to do that.”

Justin’s earliest images were that of play, where he’d engage with his inquisitive mind and curiosities around photography. “I was making pictures of myself floating, appearing to be meditating. I was also taking a lot of images using flash in extreme darkness and looking at the way that my eyes would turn red. Those things seemed so otherworldly to me and looking back, it’s interesting to see that I always made a point to position myself as the subject in these other worlds.”

As time went on, Justin experienced the arrival of the internet and, in particular, social media. This changed the way that he – and many other creatives – made things. Notably because it was during a time when a certain fashion had occupied the online platforms. “Everyone was posting images what would have text tattooed on them, showing things like their nickname or relationship dates. I remember making images of myself where my skin was green and the image would be encased in a far from subtle vignette. That was my whole style at the time.” Now, however, his style has evolved into something very different.

Justin still thinks of himself as “that kid” making “really bad” imagery, but what we’re seeing today is quite the opposite. Producing a fully matured style and technique, by trade, he refers to himself as being “nothing close” to a full-time photographer – and he has good reasoning why. “I think it helps me to preserve my practice,” he says. Taking time apart from any task has been known to improve the process and thinking behind it, so this theory does in some ways play out. “I’ve never been into the idea of needing to work constantly or even consciously all the time.” Justin, in this sense, sees his practice as one that stays ignited through “a sort of osmosis” – a sporadic one that’s fuelled by conversations or observations of the world around him.

“I like to take my time,” he continues, citing Kerry James Marshall as an impactful influence on the work he creates. After discovering his work at the age of 22, Justin often references Kerry’s fine-tuned, slow and case-by-case method of painting – not to mention his motivations and successes within an elitist and exclusive industry. “There’s something about seeing someone who looks like you dominate in a space that you thought you had no access to previously. Seeing truly is believing sometimes,” he says. “Because of this experience, one of my prominent thoughts is that the work always needs to be seen, because it’s never really for you as the artist.”

One of Justin’s most favoured pieces that he’s recently shared with the public is a series of self-portraits, submitted to Tyler Mitchell for his Black Nonsense project for Vogue Italia. “Each image functions as an integration of a single starting image,” he says. The process of which begins with a silhouette of himself taken from a selfie in his bathroom. “From there, I add something or take something away from each version, landing at a place where the images all become unique representations of the original image.” With subtle hints to Jean Baudrillard’s Simulacra theory – where an image is a replication or counterfeit of the original, thus devaluing the image – these works are illusory and transient. Achieved through the use of the slit scan technique, Justin used a scanner and moved the image across the device as it operates, creating “transmutations” of the initial image.

The end result is series of imitators. However, Justin adores the outcome for the fact that each image looks likes an original in its own right. “The transmutation comes from me engaging with the image physically, by either abrading the image or even placing salt on the image,” he adds. “It’s a conversation around the malleability of a single image and how far it can be taken physically and aesthetically, while still being desirable.” He further notes how this a response to the fast-paced digital world that we currently find ourselves in, reminding us that perhaps not all we see online is real or an original piece of art. “It’s a response to the rapid influx of images we digest daily,” he concludes, “and the desire to keep up with that momentum.”