Painting with Light

Joe West Photography

Photographer Joe West brings history to light through his lens. Joe is known for his striking images of old barns and classic rural structures—remnants of a way of life that’s quietly fading. Using his self-developed Fusion Photography technique, he captures the warmth, color and spirit that still linger in these weathered places. Each photograph captures both the past and present, inviting viewers to remember, reflect and rediscover the beauty of the Southern landscape and the stories that built it. We spoke with Joe to learn more about the lens he sees through and what led to the focus on old barns.

Your work beautifully captures the character of old barns and classic Southern structures. What draws you to these subjects, and what do they mean to you personally?

I think it all comes back to being raised in the South. My childhood is full of wonderful memories of farm animals, tractors, crops, barns, corn cribs, tool sheds, and old houses. All of these things connect with farming life. At the time, I didn’t realize it, but they have left an indelible imprint on my heart and soul. When I was young, barns were everywhere you looked. I remember a pole barn built on my Grandad’s farm. I watched its construction from start to finish and spent countless hours inside, working and playing. Barns were natural magnets for kids. There was always something to see and do—like finding a new litter of kittens in a corner or lying in the hay loft, listening to rain on the tin roof. I never imagined a time when you’d have to search to find a barn still in use, like from my childhood days.

Can you tell us what your “Fusion Photography” method is and why

you felt the need to create your own approach?

I developed my Fusion Photography technique to solve a common problem: capturing scenes with extremes of light and dark. For example, when you photograph a dark room with windows looking out on a sunny day, one of two things happens. Either the room is exposed well, and the windows are “blown out,” or the window view is properly exposed, and the room is too dark. Even the best camera sensors can’t see what the human eye sees in extreme contrast. A camera sensor can be set to expose for bright or low light but must compromise when trying to capture both. I faced this problem again and again in my real estate and landscape photography. My Fusion Photography uses a combination of techniques that employ real light—not software algorithms—to balance exposure. It can take forty-five minutes or more to photograph one barn, plus an hour or more of editing to assemble the elements. The best way I describe this technique is “painting with light,” though it’s not traditional light painting. It’s my way of uniting light and dark exposures so the final image is close to what the human eye would have perceived. It blends art and science.

How do you find or choose the locations you shoot—are they places you stumble upon, or is there a deeper search involved, like tracking history or local stories?

I started by searching for old barns to photograph. Over time, as more people learned about my work through social media and word of mouth, I began receiving requests. People now ask me to document everything from barns and houses to corn cribs and tool sheds. Many owners are starting to realize that a way of life connected to these old structures is quietly disappearing and may never return.

How do you approach capturing the feeling in your photography?

This is an interesting process that surprises me each time I approach an old structure. I never really struggle with trying to figure out angles, colors, light and shadow to achieve a certain feeling. As soon as I walk up to a barn or other structure... I just start to “feel” what’s going to work in a given situation. I, always, walk around both the outside and inside... and the best elements needed to achieve a certain feel or emotion usually start to become very clear, quickly. Over time, I’ve learned to “see” the final image before I even begin... and it’s, sort of, like I am just “painting in” the pieces as start to work. I’m reminded of something I once read about Michelangelo. Not that I am, remotely, comparing my work to anything Michelangelo created... but he said that he could “see” a completed sculpture inside a block of stone... and that he just “chipped away” at the stone until the sculpture he saw was free. It’s a similar process for me. I “see” the final image... and just “chip away” at the scene, with various techniques, until the final image (that I see in my mind) appears. I, almost always, shoot in the “magic light” window about thirty minutes either side of sunset. It is, basically, impossible to achieve the lighting effects and mood I try to create at any other time of day.

Do you see yourself more as an artist, a documentarian, or a preservationist?

Very good question! I’m not sure if I know the answer. Lately, I seem to be bouncing between these three roles... with no clear dividing lines. What started off as a path to, simply, photograph old barns with light, life, and color...has become an ever-expanding adventure. At this point, I’m not exactly sure where all this is going to lead.

For those in our community interested in photography, what’s one piece of advice you’d offer about capturing the soul of a place or structure?

The best advice I can give is to, simply, take your time. The “best” shot, often, simply takes time. Just as it takes time to get to know a person... it, often, takes time to get to know a place or structure. In the end, it’s all about how a place or structure is interacting with light... and one can, rarely, discover the best interactions of light and shadow by jumping out of a car for quick snapshot.  

What do you hope people feel or take away when they look at your work?

Primarily, I would like people (particularly younger people) to be able to see and feel just a bit of the way of life that my generation experienced. I can, clearly, see a day coming when there will be no more old barns around. A day is coming when there will be no more old, original barns to see and touch and appreciate. I hope that my photographs will help the older generation remember another time...and will give the newer generation a small link to a way of life that, sadly, they will never know.

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To learn more about Joe and his work, visit  joewestphotography.com.