Photographer Alec Soth on Enjoying Art School During His Midlife Crisis

‘I really wanted to do a book of nude self-portraits,” says Alec Soth. “For better or worse, I’m just an inward-looking photographer.” So why didn’t he? “Photography,” he explains, “means going out into the world and interacting with it.”

That drive to engage with the world has cemented Soth’s reputation as a revered photographer. The American artist has captured intimate moments of naked lovers and newlyweds at Niagara Falls, monks and survivalists in remote mountain cabins, and residents of fading small towns across the United States. Yet, for his latest project, instead of turning the lens on himself as originally planned, Soth spent two years traversing America to photograph art students at 25 universities. The culmination of this journey is his new book, Advice for Young Artists.

I would try to just wander around and pretend I was a student

Despite its title, the book is a departure from straightforward guidance. It combines gnomic quotes, self-help Post-its, and a deep blend of longing, melancholy, and wry observations from an aging artist seeking to rekindle his creative spark. “As is typical for me, it didn’t start this way at all,” says Soth, 55, during a phone interview from the US East Coast, where he’s currently teaching a residency course.

Initially, Soth aimed to photograph both young and older artists but soon realized that the older artists were simply stand-ins for him. “I didn’t want to photograph them,” he admits. Instead, he turned his attention to young art students who exuded an enthusiasm he felt he might never experience again. This project became a reflection on how to recharge creativity and stay fresh as he ages.

Soth gained access to these students by offering classes to art programs across the US. However, he kept his interactions with them minimal: “I was just trying to be in the proximity of their energy.” The resulting photographs depict a variety of scenes – from intimate portraits of students to images of cluttered studios filled with works in progress. Some shots are close-cropped and personal, while others pull back to reveal a more detached perspective, showing entire classes deep in their creative processes. It’s a vibrant celebration of the joy of creating, tinged with wistfulness.

Some of the artworks captured in his photos might seem cliched to cynics – from generic sculptures to taxidermy mice. Yet, Soth’s intent was never to mock but to highlight the fearless creativity of these young artists. “What I love is that they’re not doing that jaded thing, being that person who knows too much,” Soth explains.

One compelling image features a young woman poised straight-backed on a chair, seemingly posing for a self-portrait using a long cable release – a classic assignment for photography students. In reality, Soth took the picture and is reflected in the glass of a nearby mirror, subtly inserting himself into the scene. “I thought, ‘Why not embrace that youthful way of looking at yourself?’”

Soth’s approach at each new university was to blend in and pretend he was a student. This allowed him to immerse himself in the environment, even as he worked on his own images in classrooms, setting up still lifes and experimenting with new techniques. The photographs’ depth of field, vivid and layered, attests to this blending of practice and exploration.

Despite his mastery, Soth set aside his decades of experience to see the world through the unjaded eyes of a beginner. “When you’re young, you want to dive into something – that’s the whole thing. The end result fades. What matters is the process. I’m trying to feel that again.” Soth reveals he did manage to relive those moments in classrooms, though he would revert to his anxious self once back at his hotel.

One of the inspirations for this project was Walker Evans’s late-career Polaroids, which Evans took with childlike enthusiasm. “He became like a kid again,” Soth says. These photos, infused with both enthusiasm and decay, deeply touched Soth. He aimed to capture a similar feeling – though he insists he’s not as old as Evans was.

Humor, often directed at the absurdity of aging, underpins much of Soth’s work. “I think it’s funny to have a midlife crisis,” he says, reflecting on the inevitability of aging and decay. This sentiment finds expression in the book’s cover, which features a drawing of Soth by a student intern. He admits feeling a bit embarrassed about asking for it but wanted to embrace the feeling of “cringe.”

Known for his unique methods, such as running a summer camp for “awkward storytellers” and setting up an “art school on wheels,” Soth continues to experiment and evolve. His previous work, including the 2010 book Broken Manual, also delved into themes of escape and aging. “I’m making fun of myself,” Soth says. “There’s that feeling in middle-age of trying to hold on – Maybe I could dye my beard! But then it’s like, ‘Well, nothing can be done. I’m going down this road.’”

A symbolic image in the book depicts Soth handing a wilting flower to a young photographer, a visual metaphor for passing on the torch of creativity. One evening, Soth dined with some students and a professor, where he was asked for advice. His response encapsulates his philosophy: “Advice has all this weight attached to it and it always sounds empty. It’s meaningless. You just have to keep going.”

Though concerned about how the book will be received, Soth is growing more comfortable with feedback. “As I’m getting older, the power of the ego is waning,” he says. Creating something experimental, even if it’s not universally beloved, is more important to him than relying on past successes.

The book does feature one nude portrait: a male figure partially visible, head hidden by a spotlight. Is it a covert self-portrait? “Yes,” Soth confirms, acknowledging it as a nod to a previous self-portrait in Niagara.

Advice for Young Artists is published by Mack.