ARTS

INTO THE LENS OF THE FEMALE GAZE

A conversation with photographer Lindsay Ellary

In the photograph, twenty-two year old Mikaela Straus is seated outside with a glass of orange juice and a spoonful of dripping Cheerios. A thin line of milk connects the edge of the spoon to the bowl as Straus stares directly at the camera. Her face is bare, visible, and centered. Wearing a simple white tank top, her arm is stretched to expose her natural armpit. You most likely know her as King Princess, the Billboard-charting musician. And you’ve most likely seen Lindsay Ellary’s work capturing musicians. Yet in this image, like many of Ellary’s works, any distance between the subject and the viewer is erased. Her photos feel instantaneously familiar and reachable.

Behind the camera for Phoebe Bridgers, Tame Impala, Thundercat, HAIM and more, Ellary is familiar with space that occupies photography in the music industry. From shooting for the cover of TIME Magazine to working on Nike campaigns, Ellary defies fixed boundaries in marking her career as a photographer. When looking at Lindsay’s work today, there is an undeniable awareness of light, form, and the human object. Each image feels palpable, the subject’s skin and the surrounding light vivid at all moments. Her models—who range from children to musicians to strangers—are consciously dressed in jarring colors, accessories, and decor, while the background frame is oftentimes completely black. Beyond her commissioned projects, Lindsay stands at the forefront of portrait photography, capturing faces not typically championed by the industry.

And it’s only been three years since Lindsay moved to Los Angeles to pursue photography full time. Originally from Dallas, Texas, Lindsay grew up with a camera. In middle school and high school she was always “that kid” inviting friends over to take portraits of them. Influenced by her dad, who paid his way through college by taking photos, she ventured into photography as a natural pursuit. Now recognized by W Magazine in 2020 as one of the “10 New Fashion Photographers to Follow,” Ellary has been on everyone’s radar.

She video-called me from her house in Echo Park, Los Angeles. Her hair was in a casual bun and she sat comfortably in front of the screen. Behind her were some portraits she had taken hung against the wall. We talked about her creative process when shooting, the ever-evolving definition of the female gaze that her work dives into, and the intersections between gender and commercial success in photography.

Isabelle Yang: Photography is often greeted with hurdles before one even attempts to meet the learning curve. It is a demanding industry—both financially and artistically. Keeping this in mind, how would you describe your relationship with photography?

Lindsay Ellary: The famous Alan Watts quote flashes in my head when I think about these things: what would you do if money was no object? I took this to heart when I heard it and my line of thinking became that if I keep doing exactly what I really like, then eventually I’ll get really really good. It’s a constant struggle though; I find myself checking in mentally to gauge where I’m at. But having this mentality ultimately is what helped me pursue photography.

IY: When you take photos, is there a certain objective you keep in mind? In other words, what does your thought process look like?

LE: To a certain degree it is very intuitive. The objectives are in my preparations, which includes everything that happens before the shoot. I typically prep my ideas, conceptualizing how the project will come to fruition. I have four different journals at any given time with specific individual purposes—it’s not a perfect system, but I’ll write down ideas that come sometimes by chance. I’ll be walking and see a building that light is hitting really nicely, or it could be inspired by a person, or an intense experience—I think a lot of my work comes from anger, unfortunately. I guess the prep is just figuring out an idea and sitting with it, asking myself: is this something I want to make tangibly?

IY: Anyone that goes through your collection of work will notice the recurring emphasis of the human object. Whether they may be children or friends or models, these projects involve people. Why photograph them? model shows up, I can’t predict who they are or how they are feeling that day. Are they going to like me? Am I going to like them? Photographing people takes on an organic quality as you move back and forth between the space you share with a subject.

IY: You mention organic quality. How do you manage to achieve this when there is so much conscious effort in preparing for a photo?

LE: When I started my career, I primarily photographed children. Being in LA, surrounding myself in the industry, getting bookings because the female models in the photos are seductive—this was all infuriating to me. Seeing male photographers blow up because their body of work is the bodies of nameless, replaceable women was frustrating. I was very aware of the male gaze that photography seemed suited for. So when I was working with those models, I felt like I was doing the same thing to them. She’d be gorgeous but there was nothing for me to say at that point in time. So I started photographing children because that felt more organic to me; I felt like I could portray a child as a person and not a vessel.

LE: I would like to think all of my photos have a cohesive style. I think my style is changing a lot right now as a result of having to adjust my process during COVID. But I would say that it is very driven by connectedness and intimacy. I really like strong qualities of light that feel tactile; I like things that are melancholy but with a touch of humor involved.

IY: The beauty of photos is that they often have layered visual meaning. Would you say your photos are driven by statements? Do you want them to say a message?

LE: It’s not that photos need to have layered meaning, it’s that I believe they inherently do have layered meaning. It’s happening whether you are aware of it or not. You flip through Tinder, through Bumble, and you look at pictures that people decided to publicize, and there are hidden meanings behind every single one of them. This one says I’m outgoing, that one says I have a good body! People communicate hidden meanings behind photos no matter what. It’s present. Every photo has subtext. So you might as well think about them.

IY: I want to transition to your recent work. It seems that you have almost ‘outgrown’ what was so off-putting about working with models. As you gradually go back into that space, what is different this time around?

LE: At all times I am very aware that I’m a woman in a still very male-driven environment. The female gaze movement feels like an outcome of the male gaze. I work predominantly with women models, because I’m very interested in the experience of women and the way they’ve been photographed for so long. These newer photos feel like an evolution of my work. They exemplify my attempt in trying to photograph models again. The subject matter is in a way sexual, they are in their underwear at home but the goal is to take a picture of a nude female without connecting a sex element to it.

IY: If these photos came out as a by-product of the same sentiments but the work was done by a male— would it achieve a similar effect?

LE: It’s that classic case of ‘can you separate the art from the artist.’ There are a lot of male photographers that shoot beautiful nudes. I don’t have an answer for it, but the closest thing I’ve come to is that I would hope that having the body of work before this will provide some anchor to the work I’m going towards now. To have these photos as small guiding points—to show that nude women can be portrayed in ways other than enticing and sexual.

ISABELLE YANG B’22 is digging through old boxes to find her camera.