Lyle Owerko: In His Own Words

Photographer Lyle Owerko will go down in history as having taken one of the most lasting images in the history of photography, but by all intents and purposes, he wishes that wasn't the case. The photo in question blazes across the cover of Time Magazine's best selling issue ever, released just days after the attacks of September 11th. Owerko is a peaceful traveler, whose camera is his one, trusted companion. Together, they catalogue and capture a world of contrasts, at once industrial and natural, beautiful and tragic. I spoke to Owerko, whose latest project is a series on tunnels, about how a point and a click can transcend art.

What is it about tunnels that you find so fascinating?

Tunnels are vessel of transference and mystery with so many connotations for travel and entry. Tunnels are also a part of adventure and in a transactional way, a part of escape. I discovered a pattern and connection between them in my travels, as well as a unique signature to each one. As a series, they work so well, connoting both entry and disappearance in an inviting, and foreboding way.

Where did you shoot the tunnels?

I’ve traveled through road tunnels in Norway, New Zealand, South Africa, Brazil, Western Canada and, California. I’ve been shooting this series since 2002. The tunnels were found through my travels. They were simply experienced as part of a bigger adventure. They were quickly recognized as a theme, and I continue to gather images of different ones wherever I am—either Rio, Los Angeles, Oslo, New York, etc. There’s a unity that exists over time. The images have become one continuous thread of emergence and entry. Like a looping film.

Do you encounter any trouble when shooting this series?

It’s becoming harder and harder to shoot public structures, especially in America. Security is a concern. I used to shoot a lot in empty parking lots and things like that. A lot of the Security at malls in America will not approve a shooting permit for this type of photography anymore. Many of the places I used to go to are now off limits. Once someone see’s a 4x5 on a Tripod they report it immediately.

Do you work under a proven method or philosophy?

I try to gather and preserve what I can. I also try to seek out and jump on the opportunities that present themselves. It always pays to be prepared. Most of my best imagery was gathered when I was in the middle of seeking something else. The unpredicted moment meeting preparation is often where the art really takes shape. I guess that’s what makes the tunnel series interesting. They are a portal and a point of transference for both me, and the viewer.
I’m lucky to have a camera as my friend to record these journeys. The camera is a very peaceful object for me, and is one part megaphone, one part receiving dish. It’s a fortunate position in life to be so comfortable with such a tool.

What compels you to take photographs?

I am compelled to take pictures as a form of explanation. I’m really lucky to have been embraced by this art form, as it allows me to render a portion of the hundreds of tiny stories that play out in my field of vision everyday.

Can you describe what September 11th was like?

September 11th was the worst day ever. It will never be fully resolved in my heart and mind. The whole event is beyond the normal faculties of cognition. I wish I could explain it, but when I try, words simply fail me. It’s the sounds, the smells, the tension and the angst that were present that morning, that are so hard to capture in words. The event is simply beyond vocabulary.

While you were witnessing those events, was there a difference between Lyle the photographer and Lyle the New Yorker?

I was “Africa Lyle” that morning—which is kind of abstract. I had just flown back from Tanzania. The first frames of the initial rolls taken on my cameras on 9/11 contained imagery from Africa. The final output renders only a fraction of the experience. Witnessing those events, I was not a “Photographer” or a “New Yorker,” I was simply a concerned, conscious human being.

Your photograph that made the cover of Time Magazine on September 11th was ranked by the society of American Magazine Publishers as one of the most important photos of the past 40 years. What was it about that photo in particular that stood out from all the rest?

There was no other photo like it. It’s the only one that was composed to clearly juxtapose the two towers next to each other against the clear blue sky of that morning, while freezing the apex of the explosion that erupted from the second plane’s impact. J.P. Pappis (of Polaris Images) told me in all the years that have passed and all the images that have been shown, he’s never seen another photo that even remotely duplicated that shot. Considering how many amazing and spectacular images exist from that day, from so many talented people who were shooting, there still seems to be a quality about that particular image that stands alone.

How many times have you been to Africa, and what about it and its people attracts you?

I’ve been going to Africa since 1999. The past two years I have been on four trips of up to 6 weeks in length at a time. Over the years, I’ve been to Tanzania, Kenya, The Islands of Zanzibar and Lamu, as well as Namibia, Botswanna, Zimbabwe, Zambia and South Africa.  It’s the collision between absolute beauty and absolute tragedy. Yet, amongst all of the dichotomies, there is always hope within the people. I’m attracted to hope. In Africa, there’s a spirit that endures in the faces and eyes of the people who I meet, and it fills my soul. In return, I try to dignify the razor’s edge that makes up daily life in Africa with the best images I can possibly gather.

How does spending a lot of time in Africa affect the way you view daily life in New York? Does a lot of it seem trivial?

I get very depressed when ever I get back from a trip, especially to Africa. I come home to the noise of so many individuals trying to get ahead and make their mark on the rock of Manhattan, that it’s deafening to my spirit. When I come back from Africa, there is a gap compared to the closeness of the friendships I have there, versus here. I also miss the sound of the wind in the evenings, and the blanket of stars that cover each night’s sleep. But just as I miss those things, I’ve learned to accept what is here now, in ways that are so much deeper than I could, prior to going to Africa. The other most important thing is to laugh. In Africa I laugh a lot, I try to keep that spirit alive where ever I am.

Visit Lyle’s official website at www.owerko.com