AN INTERVIEW WITH EMMANUEL TORFS

Captured in perfect squares, Brussels-based photographer Emmanuel Torfs uses photography to express a world of man-made vistas with a unique calm. Expressed in quiet compositions, each image represents a place and space in time. His work distills architecture, infrastructure, urban geometry and natural landscapes into moments of silent precision - where absence becomes presence, and stillness speaks louder than motion.

Torfs frames his work almost as quotidian observations and presents them with a restrained palette, allowing the viewer to linger on the overlooked rhythms of built environments. These scenes are emptied of human bustle, yet charged with the hum of our lives.

• Hi Emmanuel, can you tell me a little about yourself?
Of course. Born and living in Brussels, 56 years, I haven’t had any long experiences abroad. But as a 'city child' who also spent his childhood in an apartment, I’ve always felt the need to escape. First to the streets, then beyond Brussels. Not always with the desire to go far. Within a 3- to 4-hour radius around Brussels, a wide variety of landscapes opens up to me. From the coast, with its vastly different atmospheres, to the countryside that absorbs every season—lush in winter, dry in summer—some larger cities with endless resources, and then this ‘no zone’ that’s almost everywhere in between.

My weeks unfold within the confines of a 9-to-5, tethered to a screen. It’s what makes my weekends and stolen days of freedom feel like rare treasures. I’m completely self-taught, with very limited technical knowledge. And that suits me just fine. Learning more about the idea of a ‘project’ or the deeper meaning behind the act of photographing would probably have helped me develop a clearer photographic direction.

• How did you discover your love for photography?

I didn’t discover photography—it’s through mimicry that the act of photographing became second nature to me. My stepfather always carried a camera with him. In my early years, with an untrained eye, I mostly captured vacation spots and places. Then, little by little, I wanted to break free from this ‘postcard’ pattern and seek something else: lights, graphic elements, staging my love for architecture—mainly from the 1930s to the 1980s. Trying to capture, with a slightly different gaze, what comes to me. After that, it became compulsive—almost despite myself.

• Your work focuses strongly on topographic landscapes. Human presence is always implied but rarely direct. Can you tell me more about your interest in these scenes and the way you choose to portray them?

Indeed. Two principles imposed themselves on me: no people, no cars. As if I wanted to recreate a world without noise, without soul, without movement, to give each place, each building, its own personality. As you express it, the human presence is still there despite everything. My photos are deeply rooted in our contemporary world, shaped by it, yet I so cherish the absence of my contemporaries.

• I see in your compositions a natural immersive quality, almost as if I could be standing in the frame looking at the very place you are shooting, a sort of mixture of documentary and experience. How would you define your photographic style?

I take this as a beautiful compliment—perhaps the greatest one I could receive. I never try to recreate a universe. I just try to translate what I see. Without artifice. Sometimes, beautiful light helps me, but it’s the grey skies that inspire me the most. I don’t think I’m a great observer, but despite that, a certain eye has developed in me, with the sole desire to capture.

• Themes of isolation and emptiness seem to play an important role in your photography. What significance do these elements hold for you?

What interests me in my photographic quest is not man in his environment, but the environment itself as the primary (and only) point of anchor. Amid work, family, friends, parties, the crowds on public transport, on the road—in short, almost everywhere we find ourselves—a need for emptiness has grown within me, a desire for ‘these places, these moments just for myself.’ Though I am an extremely social person, curious about everything around me and sometimes even funny, I find this absence deeply nourishing. A bit like reading, where we have the opportunity to recreate a world from just a few words.

• You strike me as a prolific photographer. In my mind, I picture you walking for hours with your camera around your neck, exploring landscapes in search of detail and atmosphere, in other words admirably hard-working! Is there truth in my imagined scenario and how do you actually go about planning and spending a day shooting?

It’s a somewhat idyllic vision ;-) I try to take the time to take time for myself, to step away from my broader social world. But there’s also a certain laziness or fatigue that settles in when I stop being frenetic ;-). And no, I don’t always carry my camera with me. Sometimes, yes—I manage to carve out time for myself, almost like going on a hunt. Not always with a clear goal, just a few markers. On weekends and trips outside Brussels, I’m lucky to have a very understanding partner for these getaways. It’s often during those moments that I’m most alert. I savour those times, the moments when I want to pause, to immortalise.

There are two or three things that sharpen my attention. Those famous grey days that flatten contrasts and soften depth, the light of early mornings too. Sometimes even the harsh southern light. Autumn and winter are my favourite seasons—with low skies and a certain melancholy. When I go out ‘hunting,’ all it takes is a single point of reference: a water tower, a brutalist building... knowing full well that it’s usually along the way that the real surprises appear.

• Over the years I've have enjoyed your photography you have shot in many different places - mostly in Europe but also North America and Japan. What brings you to these places? And are they destinations for work, holidays or planned photographic trips? What do you look for when choosing a destination?

You’re absolutely right. I’m not in search of exoticism. And my travels—which I hate to call ‘vacations’—are mostly road trips. Often with a primary focus that isn’t strictly photographic. It’s more about varying the experiences: places to stay, food, landscapes. That said, more than in Brussels—which I always find hard to photograph, as if I know the city too well—it’s often during these wanderings that the urge to capture something arises. Sometimes by chance, sometimes by taking a few hours just for myself.

Even if the trips themselves can be very different, I always look for a certain sense of consistency—sometimes simply through the way I approach what’s in front of me. One trip that really marked me in that sense was to the Canary Islands. Before leaving, I wondered what kind of photos I could possibly take there, without coming back with clichés. But once I arrived, everything gradually became clear. The different islands revealed themselves to me and offered a world I hadn’t anticipated.

There are certain patterns in the way I choose my travels: Northern Europe, winter—March is a wonderful month to get away. And simply the question: ‘What will I find there? What can this region offer me?’ Even though that last question is sometimes unnecessary. It’s often while wandering—(“Errances”, a small nod to Raymond Depardon)—that the magic finds its way to me.

One thing that gives me a great sense of freedom is that I take these photos primarily for myself. I don’t set out to create a photographic universe for others. It’s a self-centred process, in the best sense of the word. Even though I’ve received some truly meaningful signs of appreciation from others, this compulsive photography is, above all, a personal journey.

• If you had two weeks to shoot anywhere in the world where would your dream trip be and why?

Ah, the big question! So many projects, so little time.

Several ideas for ‘wanderings’ are taking shape. One of them is a road trip between Switzerland and Italy, with brutalism as a guiding thread. A chance to be in the mountains—where I’m drawn to human interventions carved into the hillsides—and to explore authentic suburban neighbourhoods, far from the already-seen and overexposed. I’m also thinking about Spain and Portugal—for their over-tourism, rural depopulation, and the effects of climate change. Two weeks by train between Moscow and Beijing, taking the time to do nothing. Including the suburbs of these two great cities, Lake Baikal, Ulaanbaatar, and the vast steppes of Mongolia. Morocco and Tunisia also inspire me. I’ve always been drawn to the way nature aggressively shapes the peri-urban space there.

And so many other projects and desires for escapes....

• I've noticed the colours in your work are always discreet and natural, and you consistently present your photography in a square format. To me, these feel like a a sort of Torfs signature. Can you share a bit about the technical aspects of your photography, what camera/lenses you use and how you post-process your work?

Indeed, I chose the square format a few years ago—anecdotally, to distance myself from that ‘postcard’ style, which I’ve always struggled to compose well. The square inspires me a lot because it allows for a more graphic approach, at least for me. As for colours and light, I’m not after effects. I find that colours ‘as they are’ suit me perfectly. I want to avoid aestheticising what I see, even if I sometimes give in to it.

My preference for more wintry atmospheres also helps me embrace subtler, less vibrant colours. In truth, I’m not in search of colour itself—it’s the atmosphere I’m after. If colour can help highlight that atmosphere, that’s great, but it’s never an end in itself. I currently work with a Nikon D780—a sturdy machine that gets the job done. I use a 24-70mm lens and a 50mm. I don’t like zooming; I much prefer to move closer or step back depending on the situation. Sometimes, I do regret not having a wide-angle lens. But overall, I manage to take photos that suit me with these two lenses. I do need to work on sharpening my eye, though. I see this as my path forward, along with developing my work more in terms of ‘projects.’ I also work with an XS-70, a Nikon FM, and a Yashica-Mat, but more sporadically.

In terms of post-production, I try to do as little as possible. I correct the lighting (which isn’t always perfect when shooting), fix the geometry (I have a bit of an obsession with straight lines...), and since I move from 4:3 to square format, I crop the photos accordingly. Note that I actually compose with the square crop in mind during the shoot itself, which allows me to have some ‘waste’ on the sides.

• Finally, what influences your photography and which photographers have inspired you?

Two types of photographers inspire me deeply. Some whose work resonates closely with what I do, and others—often with humans at the heart of their work—who move me through the precision and depth of their gaze.
• Bernd & Hilla Becher : for their strict typological approach
• Thomas Struth
• Robert Adams
• Stefaan Vanfleteren (even if I think he is sometimes a little to aesthetic)
• Jeff Wall : A master of staging to assert his message
• William Eggleston : He brought colour to America of his time
• Paul D’Haese : Close to my world, just with that added rigour and perfection
• Martin Parr for this uncompromising and ironic gaze on society
• Cindy Sherman : the tender way she puts herself in frame
• Nobuyoshi Araki : horribly prolific and diverse in his themes and obsessions
• Dirk Braeckman : known for his moody, abstract black-and-white photographs
• Rineke Dijkstra : I love here portraits and here approach with her subjects
• August Sander : for this “sociological approach of this portraits of this time
• Helmut Newton : The photographer of the 80s His museum in Berlin is a temple
• Hiroshi Sugimoto : for this fabulous seascapes
And so many others!

You can see more of Emmanuel’s work on his Instagram gallery at emmanueltorfs