Czech Eden, Aperture, 2007
© Matthew Monteith

Back in March, I made a post about David Hilliard referring me to the work of a few photographers, one of them being Matthew Monteith. At the time, I had only recognized Monteith’s Art School project and was intrigued by his newer work, the landscapes and portraits from the Czech Republic — sort of in the vein of Joel Sternfeld or, more recently, Alec Soth (especially ‘Sothian’ are these portraits).

Back when I wrote the post I said something to the effect of “keep an eye out for this one.” And I meant it; Recently picking up the new book of this work was as fulfilling as I had imagined. Czech Eden, published by Aperture is as lush in color, carefully sequenced, and quietly observed as I hoped. I fell for it instantly, finding photographs so striking that began carrying the book around with me so I could look again when necessary.

In April, Joerg (Conscientious) wrote a review of the book, and made a point which I felt was necessary to carry over here, as well:

If you take photos in a foreign land, they will be different from the photos taken by the people who live there, because what you see is unfamiliar (maybe even strange) for you. In the same fashion, when you view photos of a country, to a large extent your perception of what you see is guided by how much you know already about that country. In that sense, there is no absolute photographic truth of any given place, simply because your preconceptions (or their lack) will determine what you see. I think it is very important to keep this in mind when looking at books like Matthew Monteith’s Czech Eden.

This is much less a concern to me, especially in this case, than an interesting idea to ponder. It’s true, when an artist is photographing in an unfamiliar land, subjects are approached differently than in a familiar location. Seems obvious, but this critique often comes up in discussing photographic projects that are attempting to illustrate some kind of overarching state of a place, but made by an outsider.

Ivan Klima, in the introduction to Czech Eden, states that that it wasn’t the photographer’s intention to reference or depict any specific period in his images. Monteiths’ vision of the Czech Republic is one that is simply about finding beauty in the landscape and the people. After all, the name for his series was inspired by a visit to Ceský ráj, a protected national preserve in Northern Bohemia — Ceský ráj can be translated as “Czech Paradise,” “Eden” or “Heaven.”

In June, I’ll be making a short trip to Scotland to make photographs and I’m finding myself wondering how this effect, “the other” effect, will play a role in the work I make there. Though I’d hope that I’ll make images in the same way, I know I’ll be influenced by my desire to explore what is exotic and unfamiliar.

Ivan Klima explains Monteith’s photographic impulse as one bound by this same desire.

Taking photographs in a foreign country is always enticing but also difficult… Naturally you are tempted to succumb to the attraction, even the exoticism of the unknown.

Approaching the country as a foreigner, Monteith is able to capture the unfaltering beauty of the Czech landscape and its people with a sense of wonder, but he also doesn’t miss its loneliness and landlocked isolation — subjects alone against stark backdrops, a suggestion of unease. Klima goes on to say, “This Czech heaven is no heaven at all, quite simply because the present-day world itself is far from being a heaven… today’s world is a world of lonely people.”

It might be worth noting that if you can’t make it to Monteith’s book signing tomorrow at the ICP in New York, signed copies of Czech Eden are available online through PhotoEye.