D: Let’s start this off the old-fashioned way. Joonas, please briefly introduce yourself to the readers.
Who are you, where are you from, what is your medium of choice, and how long have you been in the art game?
J: I’m Joonas Ahtikallio, a visual artist from Jyväskylä, Finland. My primary medium is photography, but my creative practice spans to sound, painting and moving images. Lately I have been into experimental photography and cameraless photography. I started arts with music, and some of my first recordings were released almost 20 years ago, but I would say I have been making art more seriously for about 10 years now.
D: Ah, yes – music! That’s how we first got acquainted, back when we had our pop-up dark ambient performance/mini-collage exhibition in the basement of one of Tartu’s local bars. What initially drove you towards this genre of music, and has your approach to creating it changed over these past decades?
J: Oh yes! It was an amazing event, with a really nice atmosphere in that cellar.
I originally started working with dub and ambient music, and somehow, I drifted to darker territories. Somehow, dark aesthetics spoke to me. Looking back, I realize there was a lot of unconscious material I needed to process, and dark ambient music became a way for me to explore and express those emotions. My approach has definitely shifted over the years, but that core melancholy is still there. To be honest, though, I feel a bit adrift these days, like I’ve wandered away from that dark place.
D: I remember that the piece you performed that day was somewhat like a sound collage. How do you collect your source material? Are there any particular sounds or things you find yourself more drawn to than others in the process?
J: I like to sample anything I find interesting and play with those sounds. I collect field recordings from a lot of places; it can be the buzzing of a darkroom machine or ice cracking in a lake nearby. I’m often drawn to textures, things that have a certain rawness or imperfection in them. There is something to combining natural or organic sounds and combining them with mechanical sounds that interest me. Also, samples from different musical genres inspire me; it can be anything from traditional folk to country to noise.
D: The contrast and interplay between the organic and inorganic can definitely lead to surprisingly cool results. There’s always some form of tension there, I think.
Ambient is a genre that generally prioritizes atmosphere over structure. When you get to work on a piece of music, how do you usually approach it? You mentioned earlier that ambient music offered a means to process and express your emotions. Do you start with a particular idea in mind regarding what you want to convey to the listener in terms of mood and atmosphere?
J: Absolutely, the tension between organic and inorganic can add a lot of depth to the sound. When I start working on an ambient piece, I usually focus on the feeling or mood I want to explore. I don’t typically have a structure in mind at the beginning unless I’m working with visuals at the same time. There is a lot of improvising and playing with sound, letting the mood and ideas guide the process. Sometimes, I’m drawn to a particular sound or texture first and build the base from there. The process is very intuitive. I let the soundscape unfold without trying to control it too much. I feel I have the same type of approach when I’m working with photography as well.
D: The talk about samples and field recordings earlier suddenly got me thinking about Matmos’ A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure, an album built up mainly from samples of medical procedures such as liposuctions, plastic surgeries and such. What are the most ‘unusual’ sounds you’ve used in your work?
J: I need to check that Matmos album, it sounds really interesting! It’s hard to say which sounds have been the most unusual, but I have experimented with quite a variety. For instance, I have used a lot of my cats purring to make textures. At one point I was into circuit bending, where I took children’s sound toys and rewired them to make strange noises. One of the most challenging sounds I captured was the melting of a glacier.
D: A melting glacier? That’s definitely not one you hear every day. How did you accomplish that?
J: On a road trip through northern Norway, I visited a glacier and was struck by the visible signs of its rapid melting. I experimented with capturing the subtle, eerie sounds of the glacier with my field recorder. While the recordings primarily captured the slow drip of water, the process was profoundly exciting and inspiring.
D: On the topic of sound, one component of your recent exhibition Pimeä Puutarha involved plant music. It was very interesting to get to see it in real life. Would you be willing to talk a little bit about how you came up with the idea and how the whole process turned out? Were there any surprises along the way?
J: The plant music was created using biofeedback signals from the plant, which adjusts different parameters in the synthesizer; essentially, the plant is playing the synth. My project, Pimeä Puutarha, explores the fragile and often broken connection between humans and nature. At some point in the project, I realized I was trying to capture something invisible with photography. I started to experiment with using plants as a developer, Kirlian photography (an early method of photographing auras), and lumen prints (using only sun and photosensitive paper). From there, I wanted to play with other senses as well, which led me to this Eurorack module, which turns biofeedback to control voltage in the, synthesizer, and I started to work from there.
At first, I felt that the synthesizer or humans were controlling the signal too much, but at one exhibition, I noticed that the plant reacted way differently to different people. For example, there were children around at times, and the plant would go crazy, and after a while, adults came, and the sound would calm down instantly.
D: That’s extremely interesting! Do you have any idea what might have caused these different reactions from the plant? Have you tried hooking the module up to other types of plants?
J: It’s hard to say exactly why the plant reacted differently to different people. It could be influenced by their breathing, body temperature, or electrical field. But I’d also like to think it might involve a deeper connection with nature beyond our current understanding.
I have experimented with various plants, and there is definitely a difference in how they react. However, it is challenging to pinpoint what causes these reactions since there are so many variables, like the plants’ species, time of the day, environment, air quality, sunlight and even when they were last watered, etc.
D: There are a lot of things about the natural world around us we simply still don’t understand. Not sure we ever will, really. Quite a lot of your more recent projects involve aspects of the natural world in some way. Have you always felt this connection to nature inside you or is this something that just suddenly started growing over the years?
J: I’ve always been fascinated by nature. Growing up in a remote area, I was constantly surrounded by it, and the forest became my safe place. But I also remember being deeply afraid of the dark forest. For me, the forest has always been a magical place, full of mystery and power, and I think it always will be. This connection to nature is something I imagine I’ll work with for the rest of my life without ever fully understanding it.
D: So, aside from your auditory work, you’re also a visual artist mainly working in the field of photography. We already talked about how you were drawn to ambient music before, but what was it that originally got you into photography?
J: My passion for photography started during my childhood with a simple camera and a family cat as my first subject. I used to shoot rolls and rolls of film of our cat with my sister. I vividly remember this one picture my sister took; it has this beautiful backlight winter light with our cat sitting next to a tree. Back then, I was devastated and thought I’d never take such a cool picture and stopped taking photos. I got back into it about 20 years later. At first I did landscapes and portraits, but I quickly got into more experimental stuff and analog photography. I felt that I found my voice or style in photography quite early. Of course it has evolved throughout the years, but the dark aesthetics were there early on. Somehow, photography felt like an important tool for me, and I started to examine the world around me through a viewfinder.
D: You’ve been working in the field of photography for quite some time, and during that time you’ve experimented with quite a few different methods of photo development and printing techniques. Do you have any that you could pinpoint as your absolute favorite, and are there any that you would still like to try out someday?
J: It changes with the seasons; sometimes I’m more focused on one process and then switch back to
another, so no all-time favorite for me yet. It depends on the project also. Lately I have been trying to go as simple as possible, like what is the least I need to make an image, and trying to break down the processes from that point of view and work from there. I would love to try the large format wet plate collodion process some day; those pictures are magical.
D: Breaking things down to their bare minimum is hard. I struggle immensely whenever I try to create minimalist collages. How has that process of simplification been for you so far?
J: Simplifying is indeed challenging. It’s been a lot of trial and error and lots of moments of getting lost so far, but I have come across some interesting ideas and processes that could work in future projects. I think there’s a lot to learn by stripping things down to their essentials; it offers a new perspective and clarity to work.
D: If you had to give one piece of advice to someone thinking about getting into photography, what would it be?
Go for it! You don’t need high-end equipment to create amazing images. A smartphone camera is a great tool, and if you want to explore analog photography, building a pinhole camera is an interesting place to start. Everybody has a unique voice and viewpoint; the key is to discover yours and develop it. If I need to give one piece of technical advice, it would be to stick with one focal length for a year or so to get a deeper understanding of composition and develop your creative eye.
D: Here’s an interview staple question – what’s your proudest artistic achievement so far? Or, if there’s not just one single one, what are some moments in your artistic career so far that you’ll never forget?
J: That’s a hard one! In general, I’m super grateful that I get to do what I love and connect and inspire other people in my workshops and exhibitions. I think I won’t forget the connections, shared joy, and finding inspiration with others. I’m so happy that I get to experience that over and over again in my work.
D: What is the art scene like over on your end in Finland? Do you actively participate in it? Are there any venues or places in general you would recommend to us people who love the dark and strange?
J: The art scene in Finland is lively and full of fascinating artist working with a variety of mediums and ideas. There is often a familiar base of melancholy in many artists’ works, which I personally like. I actively participate in the scene, mostly through photography but also with sound.
As for places to visit in Finland, I would recommend Parikkala Sculpture Park, which is full of creepy sculptures, and Kammi-Kylä, a strange little sauna village in a swamp. And, of course, Finnish nature, in general, is always worth exploring.
D: Are there any other artists whose work or approach you’d say might’ve influenced you? Both in terms of your music and your photography. Who should the aspiring ambient musicians/photographers out there watch and learn from, in your opinion?
J: There are quite a few artists who have inspired me. To name a few, in photography, Masahisa Fukase’s works have been significant source of influence. When it comes to sound, artists like Burial, Twilight Circus and Scientist have shaped my approach. The Caretaker’s Everywhere at the End of Time has also left a mark on me. It’s a deep dive into memory and decay which resonates with my work. Recently, I have found inspiration in the abstract paintings of Anna-Eva Bergman.
D: During your workshop at Tartu’s TYPA center this summer you mentioned an ongoing project of yours called Roadkill which, as the name suggests, involves using dead animals in the creative process. Could you share a bit more about that particular project? What drove you to start it, what’s the process like, and has it led to any interesting discoveries for you so far?
J: Roadkill is a project I started with fellow photographer Anssi Ruuska (check his work by the way, he has amazing pictures). We both explore nature-related themes and although I can’t pinpoint exactly when the project began, the core idea was to examine how humans have overtaken animals’ natural travel paths with roads. Somehow, the idea of “instant fossils” came up, and we began working from there. We searched for dead animals along the roadsides and created lumen prints with their bodies using light-sensitive paper. Lumen printing is a relatively simple but really interesting technique. In lumen print making, you use light-sensitive silver gelatin paper and place an object on top of it. You then expose the paper to sunlight, which leaves a mark where the object blocks the light.
Working with dead animals evoked a lot of feelings in me, and it was really interesting to see what came out of it. It was hard, heartbreaking and also bit disgusting at times but it made me appreciate life in new ways. It was a challenging process, but one that broadened my understanding of life and death. It also led me to reflect on the bodies we live in and the fragility of life.
D: I can imagine it being quite a challenging experience. Finding dead animals on the side of the road that have undoubtedly been killed by humans is always rather sad. Cars kill way, way too many animals on a daily basis. Because of that I’m curious to know how the process of finding the animals you sourced for this project worked. After all, while our vehicles cause a lot of unnecessary animal victims, you don’t exactly come across them everywhere you go. How did you search for these animals, and what made you decide ‘This is the one we’ll use’?
J: Once you begin looking for roadkill, your eyes adjust to it, and after a while, I felt like I started to spot them all the time. This is still an ongoing project, and we have been working on it since around 2020, so we have had plenty of time to find the animals. I also traveled a lot during that time, covering several thousand kilometers on road trips, which gave me many opportunities to work on this project. We also used some animals we found in forests which have died of more natural causes, but most of them were roadkill. The process of choosing which animals to use depended mainly on the size of the animal, the size of the light sensitive paper, and the safety of the location. For example, reindeer were a bit too large to work with, and some highway spots were too dangerous to access.
D: Were you creating the prints on-site in that case? That does sound like it could get dangerous from time to time.. On the topic of danger, have you ever gotten into any kind of trouble during any of your other art-related experimentation?
J: Yes, on-site. I think it was important to work that way so we had the animals in the condition we found them. We could also move the bodies somewhere more peaceful at the same time.
I work quite safely these days and try to be mindful of what I do. In the past, I did urban exploring, which almost got me in trouble a couple of times, but other than that I have been good.
D: Aside from the collaborative project Roadkill, you’ve been sticking to the natural world in a different way as well lately, namely by incorporating the world of plants into your work. We already discussed your experiment with plant music earlier in this interview, so let’s instead focus on how you’re using plants in your photographic work for a bit. Your workshop earlier this year was all about using plant-based developers in photography. Just from what you told us then, it seems there’s an entire community built up around this. What got you into it?
J: I was already experimenting with various photographic methods when I came across CuriosoLab’s courses on plant-based developers and started to work from there. It came to me at a good time since I was leaning into methods that could be more sustainable and could also be something that could connect me to nature more. There is a great community around these sustainable methods. I recommend checking out The Sustainable Darkroom and CuriosoLab if you are interested.
D: It seems to me like this whole world of plant-based developers is still very open to experimentation. Different types of plants apparently work better than others and can lead to radically different results. Sounds like things could get very unpredictable very fast. Does this uncertainty not bother you?
J: Not at all! The unpredictability is part of the beauty and magic of working with nature. In general, in my work, there is a part when you need to give up control and leave room for unpredictability. That’s also the beauty and magic of the process. However, with plant-based developers you can also get quite consistent results if you work towards that.
D: There’s another project of yours I briefly wanted to touch upon as well. Like so many others, you were forced to adapt your working methods during the COVID-19 pandemic. You did so in the form of a surreal portrait series involving glass and webcams. How did you land on the idea, and what was the experience like?
J: I started the Through the Glass project during the COVID-19 mass isolation. I did remote calls and projected the images onto different types of transparent surfaces, which I painted and scratched to create various textures that distorted the image.
When isolation began, I started experimenting with how I could photograph portraits from a distance. Through trial and error, I found that these distorted, painted, transparent surfaces created a compelling effect. The process was fascinating to me, as I couldn’t share the space with the people I was photographing, yet they were still present in the shoot. Adding layers of paint while taking photos contributed to this strange sense of distance. It was a surreal and truly interesting experience.
D: Quite a clever way of making the best out of an unpleasant situation, I’d say – the photos that were part of that series turned out very cool!
It sounds like the whole process was usually quite improvisational. Was that actually the case, or did you plan out your ideas in advance?
J: There was some planning at the beginning, but after that, it became quite improvisational. I experimented with different surfaces and paints, and I felt the process was constantly evolving. It was really fun to play around with the techniques and watch the work develop organically. I believe the best projects are the ones that follow their natural course, where you simply go along with it and let it guide you.
D: We’ve almost reached the end of this year. Have you started making plans for 2025 yet? Any projects in the pipeline you’re looking forward to, or anything we can look forward to?
J: Yes, I’ve started planning for 2025. I’ll be continuing work on Horizon Lost, where I create abstract landscapes without direct contact with nature, and I hope to exhibit it somewhere next year. There are a couple of other projects in the early stages, and I’m also planning to release some new music. So there’s a lot to look forward to!
D: Sounds like there are already plenty of things a-brewing in that case. Very nice!
Horizon Lost sounds intriguing. What should I imagine exactly when you say “without direct contact with nature”?
J: Yes, very nice indeed! Horizon Lost explores this sense of separation from nature, both physically and emotionally. Humans often romanticize their connection with nature, but in many ways, we’ve lost ourselves within it. When I say “without direct contact with nature,” I mean I’m creating these images in the dark, mostly in the darkroom, crafting strange abstract landscapes through lumen prints, and experimenting with plant-based developers. So, I’m not taking pictures in the traditional sense but rather making them with natural elements that bring unpredictability and uncertainty. The lumen prints themselves will fade over time, which plays into this idea of a disappearing landscape. I’ve created some images already, but right now, I’m deep into experimenting.
The effect I’m aiming for is a mix of attraction and detachment. I want viewers to reflect on their own relationship and disconnection from nature.
D: I’m looking forward to seeing how the project will turn out. It all sounds very intriguing!
Thank you very much for joining me for this interview, Joonas! As always, I’d like to conclude things with the so-called shout-out segment of the interview. This is the part where you get to gush about what you’ve been into lately, plug your friends’ projects, etc. So, without further ado: Any artists you personally know that our followers should know about? Read any good books, gotten into any new music or seen any good movies lately that you’re eager to tell others about? Now’s the chance!
J: Thank you so much for having me!
For music, I have recently got back to The Caretaker’s Everywhere at the End of Time. It’s an amazing piece of art – quite dense, but deeply moving. Also, Deathprod have been on my playlist lately.
In terms of movies, All of us Strangers by Andrew Haigh had a strong impact on me. I also really enjoyed National Geographic’s new documentary Endurance. I have been fascinated by early polar exploration, and really enjoyed how the documentary told the story of Endurance.
The exhibitions I have recently seen by Finnish painters Petri Ala-Maunus and Elina Merenmies resonated with me deeply.
And as for books, I have been getting back into Timothy Morton’s books about ecology. His ideas about our connection to the environment are thought-provoking. I am also planning to delve back to House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski which is a really fascinating and layered story that stays with you long after you have read it.
