Alone, But Not By Myself

A Conversation with Photographer Allan Ali

1. Your mom used to bring you to Chestnut Hill to skip school as a kid. Did you ever imagine you’d end up exhibiting your work here one day?

Mama… I miss her dearly. She set up the bowling pins and I knocked them down. What she was really doing by taking me to Chestnut Hill was immersing me in books, exposing me to vintage things, and teaching me healthy ways to enjoy myself while exploring my mind and artistic sensibilities. It was therapeutic, really. To this very day, my personal therapy is coffee shops, books, and galleries off the beaten path.

But to answer the question directly — I had no idea I’d even be alive at the age I am now.

On the other side of Germantown Avenue, my life was at risk. I went after my teacher’s attacker and landed myself in trouble with a rival neighborhood for taking that action. I valued and respected that teacher because he was a photographer. One day, retaliation came — they hit me with a gun and broke my jaw. Then my dad proceeded to hit me with the “Will Smith”… except it wasn’t Bel-Air that I was banished to — it was Ghana, West Africa. Yup. All-boys Catholic boarding school for the next three years, lol.

Artistically, I truly didn’t believe I would make it this far, especially since my first love was music. I’ve always been visually inclined, but I didn’t pursue photography seriously until seven years ago.

What’s crazy to me is I always thought my mother would outlive me. So for me to be here and for her not to be is kind of mind-boggling now that I think about it. Life is incredible in the way it takes what you believe and flips it upside down.

Look at me now — I’m a photographer just like Frank Burd, the teacher I defended in high school.

In short, I never thought I’d make it here, but I’m absolutely thrilled to be here nonetheless.

2. What’s something about growing up in Philly that still shows up in your photography now?

The first words that come to mind are joy and pain.

Life can get dark and lonely, yet there’s hope, and our best moments come when we embrace the miracle of even being alive in the first place. I’m absolutely grateful to still be alive and walking among the living. There's this toughness and grit that comes with the identity of being a Philadelphian. I've always prided myself on being able to be the life of the party when joy reaches its peak and the rock of gibraltar when pain comes knocking on our door. I have seen blood in the streets and at times that blood has been my own but I'm only going to get stronger because nothing has killed me yet. That's courage. That's power. That's Philly.

If you were to observe me in a social setting you would see me as an extrovert, a conversationalist, a dancer, a comedian— I like to have fun. But there’s also an introverted, nuanced side of me that is reclusive and constantly deep in thought. My work reflects both.

My black-and-white work is abstract, deeply psychological, and reflects loneliness — loneliness both as a personal preference and as a survival mechanism. I’ve been hurt so many times in life that sometimes I’d rather be alone than open myself up to being let down again. I have a core belief that some things must be done alone on this journey of life, and oftentimes I’d have it no other way.

As far as the joyful side of my work is concerned, I view joy as an identity — a superpower, if you will — that allows me to spread it and use it to help a world I worry about every day. I see joy in so many of my fellow Philadelphians when I am out on the street. No matter the neighborhood, people are persevering and pushing through, just like I have, just like we all do - and that joy is absolutely intoxicatingly beautiful.

There are major issues in our city and in our world, so for me to be part of the solution, I must be joyful.

Joy is revolutionary.

Joy is gratitude.

Joy is resilience.

Black joy is resistance.

I will always embody it because I know that love and joy are where the true power of our human potential lies.

3. Your work feels really cinematic without feeling overly staged. Are you usually chasing a feeling, a person, or a moment when you shoot?

I shoot very freely, almost without conscious thought. I’m not actively thinking about composition even though I’m executing it. I’m mostly looking for feeling and deeper meaning.

What will my image make viewers feel? What poetic connections are they making to what I’m showing them?

In my most impactful work, I’m trying to convey my feelings about life.

"Alone But Not By Myself" is a reflection — a realization that I cannot thrive without my village, and I cannot thrive without my solitude. There are images in this gallery that speak to both of those realities.

4. You shoot a lot of quiet moments and solitude. Do you think that reflects your personality too?

Yes.

Most people mistake me for being purely an extrovert, but they couldn’t be more wrong. I prefer to look inward and discover more of myself. I’m intrigued by the singular journey of life as we learn and experience it.

Much of my life, I’ve had no role models to lean on, as one of my favorite rappers, J. Cole, once said. This is my journey and my journey alone — and everyone can’t go.

I’m the first college graduate in my family, and ever since then I’ve known I’d largely be on my own when it came to navigating my life toward an upward trajectory.

I hope this gallery reflects a man realizing confidently that he has to do the work himself. No one can make it happen for him. He has to embrace this journey on his own because that’s the only way to progress.

5. What’s your favorite type of person to photograph and why?

I like to photograph people who know exactly what message they have to share with the world.

Oftentimes, the best photographs follow powerful conversations — moments when defenses are down and mutual respect has been earned. It’s both effective practice and personally rewarding.

I don’t think you can fake powerful feelings. You have to communicate with your subject both verbally and nonverbally to align and create a powerful photograph.

For me, embracing this process of personalizing the moment and letting your subject speak is key to making work that stands out above the rest.

6. What’s one Philly location you could photograph forever and never get tired of?

52nd Street has my heart right now — 52nd and Market to be specific.

For me, they are just the most real and authentic people I’ve come across. The stories and moments are always memorable and stay at the top of my mind.

After a while, I started asking myself: “Where could possibly be better than here for my practice right now?”

Nowhere else but there. It feels like exactly where I need to be.

7. Your black-and-white work feels timeless. What does black and white capture emotionally that color sometimes can’t?

Black and white strips away layers of information that complicate our thought patterns, while color photography can expose us — especially when done without care — to a world that can be so overstimulating we are constantly seeking reprieve from it.

Black and white can feel like an injection directly to the heart in that way.

It has always made me think of the famous inkblot tests psychologists and therapists use to tap into the minds and thought patterns of their patients. It touches a psychological place in a timeless fashion that color sometimes struggles to translate.

I think it’s easier to have an intimate moment of contemplation with a black-and-white photograph than it is with color.

I love color, by the way, but the strengths of black and white are very clear. Every photographer should spend time in that space exclusively for periods of time if they want to grow in their understanding of light and context.

8. What kind of music would be playing in the background of your photographs?

Quick playlist run:

“Otherside of the Game” — Erykah Badu

“How Much a Dollar Cost” and “Mama” — Kendrick Lamar

“Romance” — Hiroshi Suzuki

“Safety” — J. Cole

“Good Times” — Styles P

“St. Elmo’s Fire” — Michael Franks

“Mystic Voyage” — Roy Ayers

“Come Live With Me Angel” — Marvin Gaye

“Losing My Friends” — Kur

“Alright” — Freeway

Yup. I like this playlist. It’s so me.

9. What’s something people completely misunderstand about being a photographer?

It’s not the gear — it’s your conviction about the types of photographs you want to make.

The longer you do this the more one question becomes a little bit more annoying to answer. Here it comes.

“What camera did you use”

Like I get it, I often wonder the same thing but the reality of it is that cameras can’t translate vision. It’s the skill of the photographer that operated the camera that is most responsible for the final outcome.

There is no image I make on the street that can’t be done just as effectively with a cellphone. You have to study, commit to the craft, and move with passion and conviction toward the types of images you want to create.

That’s not easy on a day-to-day basis, but you must press forward if you want to reach higher heights in one of the most beautiful undertakings of human existence.

10. When people walk through your exhibition at NoName Gallery, what do you hope they leave feeling?

I hope they leave feeling empowered.

I want them to understand that there’s power in solitude, while also respecting the support it takes to move forward in life — even if that support is no longer physically here.

My mother isn’t here anymore, but I couldn’t be who I am or who I’m becoming without her. I still feel her presence.

If you’re going through something similar, embrace being alone — but understand that you are never truly by yourself.

It took the lives, sacrifices, and love of others to get you this far.

Even when you have to move forward… on your own.

Collect Allan Ali Photography