In Conversation: John Sypal & Elliot Erwitt

100 years of Leica photography: what are your thoughts on this? 
As someone focused on 35mm film photography, it’s remarkable – and fitting – that the company that established 35mm photography remains, when all is said and done, the final one that never stopped making 35mm film cameras. But it’s more than just the tools: when I visited Wetzlar and Leica Welt in 2022, I became keenly aware through the exhibits and attitudes of the staff just how passionate the company is about photography through and through. The engaging and informative exhibits explaining photography at the Ernst Leitz Museum are simply superb. Looking at the past century, I truly believe that photography is undeniably richer, more dynamic, and satisfying because of Leica’s contributions to it.

How has the work of LHOF winners influenced your work?
There’s a great quote of Elliott Erwitt’s on the Leica website: “Photography is pretty simple – you react to what you see.” I love it! That’s long been my approach, too. Erwitt’s work suggests that a snapshot is perhaps the purest, most potentially interesting form of photography. While the technical and artistic aspects of the medium march ahead, I think it’s well worth considering what lessons of Erwitt’s twentieth-century perspective we should carry on into the twenty-first. I’d say his sense of goodwill, curiosity, and humor are as necessary today as ever, if not more so.

The exhibitions are about a visual dialogue between two generations. How did you approach this theme?
This project has been an honour – and quite a challenge! From the start, I understood that running around with a camera trying to take “Elliott Erwitt Pictures” was the wrong way to go about it. On the other hand, I’m pretty good at being me – or at least following my own compulsions and curiosity. This approach, staying true to yourself, is something that he and I share. So, rather than searching out specific subject matter or situations, I did my own thing, trusting that the conversation that would arise between the time and space of our pictures would spark some kind of insight in the viewer’s minds.

The Erwitt photographs in the show are from Leica’s own print archives – they’re traditional silver gelatin prints. I’m a darkroom printer, too – so I was pleased to have this connection of film and darkroom prints. Speaking of his prints – they are quite large! Due of my esteem for him and his legacy, I decided to print my work on smaller 11×14 paper and balance the show visually by adding in a few more pictures. This variation in print size – and sequencing dynamism – creates a tempo for viewers to enjoy.

What are the similarities or differences that become visible in this dialogue?
I hope viewers will notice a shared optimism in humanity (and dogs), and an appreciation for moments that, when photographed, are even more interesting than they might have been in person. We’re both drawn to authenticity, and share a belief that, rather than ideas, engagement with the world, with all its quirks and trials, is where interesting photos are found. I think there’s room for – and a need for – pictures that can be enjoyed for what they are: succinct visual-poems of celebration.

Certainly one major difference between the scope of our work would be the sheer number of historic events and people that he had access to! The Khrushchev and Nixon photo in particular is a good example. I mean, how do you compete with something like that? And on top of his access, he had a knack for being in the right place at the right time.