Andrew is a good friend made from one of my other passions - writing. Andrew is the man behind Pen Friends YouTube and Instagram. Whilst his product photography is a constant inspiration to me (and highlight of the fountain pen community might I add) it is little known that he is also an avid photographer, blending portraiture with his love for history. Andrew’s unique painterly style is the perfect way to showcase his subjects, and I am happy to be one of few who can say I have hosted his deeply personal work.
David - This is a question I have asked on every interview so far and a concept that forever fascinates me. This year I think that I have finally found a way to articulate the question properly. How would you describe your relationship (as the creator – of sorts) with the viewer, and do you consider this relationship when photographing - be it in the moment or later during its presentation?
Andrew - Firstly, I want to express my gratitude for the opportunity to be part of this collective series of visual interviews.
My relationship with the viewer has never been the driving force behind my work. Photography, for me, has always been a deeply personal and somewhat selfish pursuit—an exploration of light and form, driven by a desire to evoke the painterly qualities I admire in the Dutch Masters. My fascination has always been rooted in the visual, in the challenge of shaping light to create something timeless.
While I certainly appreciate that others find enjoyment in my work, my true satisfaction comes from the act of creation itself—expressing subjects in a way that feels distinct and uniquely my own.
I often feel that we should create for ourselves, as it’s very easy to succumb to the “pilot fish” of likes and social media demands.
David - How would you describe your genre of photography and what elements do you believe make it identifiable as such?
Andrew - As mentioned earlier, the renowned works of the Dutch Masters, celebrated for their mastery of light, have long been a profound source of fascination for me. The way light guides the viewer’s eye, revealing the depth of emotion within a subject, has been harnessed to extraordinary effect throughout art history. This profound connection continues to inspire my own pursuit—to capture my subjects with a similar sense of depth, nuance, and luminosity.
It is an ongoing journey, one that I embrace wholeheartedly, though I suspect it is a mastery I will never fully attain.
David - If you could choose one photographer past or present to spend a week with and learn from who would it be and what skill of theirs would you most like to learn?
Andrew - I must admit that my knowledge of other photographers is somewhat limited, as my true inspiration has always been rooted in the world of art.
When it comes to developing my skills, I have never undergone formal training, instead relying solely on feedback and self-discovery. While this may be a longer and less conventional path, I believe that photography and art cannot truly be taught—they are deeply personal journeys that each of us must navigate in our own way. It is through this process that we uncover what inspires us, what challenges us, and ultimately, what shapes our creative voice.
David – What event made you pursue photography? A loaded question but I find that we all initially get into photography for the same basic reasons but there comes a tipping point into which we choose to place our efforts into photography. I would also be keen to know how long ago that was for you.
Andrew - Australia! In 2003, I traveled to the land down under to visit family, wanting to document my journey with something a step above a disposable camera. At the time, digital photography was still in its early days, and film remained the preferred medium. So, I picked up a Canon EOS 300V, along with a kit lens and a telephoto lens—little did I know that this decision would ignite a lifelong passion for photography.
Now, 22 years later, I’m still capturing moments, and the journey continues.
David - Following on from the previous question - if photography was not an option to you, what do you think you would have pursued instead? If you had to pursue something else now, would it be the same thing or something totally different?
Andrew - An excellent question, art has always been a passion of mine and I do believe that all paths intertwine with one another. With the many branches that art has to offer, I do believe that photography would always be something I would have discovered.
I don’t normally believe in fate or pre-defined paths, but I do feel that when one has an interest in a subject, there is an inevitability for discovery.
David - Recently there has been a trend amongst photographers to forgo editing, even with film they see the scan presented to them by the lab as a finished product. Whilst this itself is quite possibly a reactionary movement to the over processed “photoshopped” images of the 2010’s and the current crop of uncanny valley AI images, I still struggle to see why one would limit themselves. What are your thoughts on this?
Andrew - Since the inception of photography, there has always been an element of manipulation and artistic interpretation. The darkroom, long before the digital age, provided photographers with tools akin to those found in Adobe Photoshop today—dodging, burning, blurring, and cropping have been fundamental techniques for generations. To dismiss these tools in the modern era would be to ignore the very foundation of photographic artistry; they are not mere enhancements but essential instruments for shaping and communicating a creative vision.
This leads to a broader and more complex question: What is a photograph? The answer is multifaceted and often subjective, evoking a spectrum of responses. Is photography a means of communication, a way to document and convey truth? Is it a medium of artistic expression, where reality is shaped by the creator’s intent? Or is it simply a visual aid—a tool to assist memory and understanding?
Perhaps the true nature of photography lies in its ability to be all these things at once. It exists in a delicate balance between reality and interpretation, between documentation and imagination, and it is within this space that its power and intrigue endure.