With a portfolio that spans from adrenaline-fuelled adventures to tender portraits, photographer Alex Guiry talks capturing moments, 90s skate culture and his forthcoming book plans.

In the vibrant world of contemporary photography, Alex Guiry stands out as a force of nature—a captivating storyteller with an unfiltered lens. His journey began in a high school darkroom, where a serendipitous double exposure sparked an insatiable passion for capturing raw emotion. This initial experience, entwined with personal loss, shaped his artistic approach, blending chaos and deep introspection into every frame.

 

With a portfolio that spans from adrenaline-fuelled adventures to tender portraits, Alex’s work resonates on multiple levels, evoking both joy and vulnerability. His time in art school, although cut short, was marked by an explosion of creativity driven by the need to process grief. Through the lens, he sought not only to document the world around him but to find solace amidst turmoil.

 

Alex’s photographs are often described as “hungry,” echoing his relentless pursuit of authentic emotion—whether it be in a desolate Icelandic landscape or the electric energy of a live concert. He embraces the beauty of imperfection and the power of discomfort, challenging viewers to confront their own feelings. As we dive deeper into his artistic philosophy and future aspirations, we uncover the intricate balance he maintains between self-expression and the ever-competitive art scene. Here, we explore the mind of Alex Guiry, a photographer committed to capturing life in all its chaotic, beautiful forms.

Do you remember the moment you fell in love with photography?

I was lucky enough to have a black and white darkroom in high school and I took two negatives and pressed them together in a film holder to make a double exposure print. One photo was off a dirt road lined with trees and the other was a portrait of my high school girlfriend’s little brother with Down’s Syndrome. The silhouetted trees warped his face and made him look like a skeleton, and when I showed the 4×6 image to my partner’s mum she started crying and I was like ‘Wow… I did that. I want to do that again.’

How do you think your art school background – or dropping out of it – shaped the way you approach photography and creativity now?

I think the strongest and most prolific work I did was when I was in art school because I was forced to shoot every day due to deadlines and grades. There was so much learning and new information, and talented people around me. But the reason I was shooting so much was because I had just lost my dad to a heart attack and was using my camera to make sense of a world that had just blown up in front of me. I was 17 years old when it happened and it fucked me up. I moved from Toronto to Vancouver by myself and was depressed and angry as fuck, partying. I was using photography to express myself. It was extremely therapeutic. Anytime I’m lost in my career due to commercialising and monetising it, I look back at the work I created then and try to emulate work that has heart and a human experience.

Whether it’s naked cliff dives or posing in riots or barren landscapes of Iceland, you’ve photographed some extremes. How do you balance this sense of chaos with the deep care and purpose that your work seems to convey?

My whole adult life I’ve struggled to find a way to manage the constant need for adrenaline and not overdo it, but balance doesn’t come easy for me. I’m an intense person and I have that hyper–focus strain of ADHD so I’m a star candidate for extreme behaviour. I’m an all or nothing kinda guy. But even when I was full of chaos and acting out in self–destruction and documenting it all, I was also very hyper–aware of self-care. I would do long stints of writing, yoga, meditation, focus community, and surfing. It took me 15 years, but I’m sober now, and I train for ultra marathons in order to calm my mind and balance myself out

Your photography has been called “hungry”—it stirs and moves people. What are you hungry for when you’re behind the lens? How important is it for you to challenge or provoke your audience?

I just want to capture emotion in a photo. Whether that’s a landscape, still life or portrait, I want to encapsulate what I’m feeling that day, month, season and go out and find it in the world. Photography and art doesn’t need to just be pretty, it can be ugly, sad, fucked up, and beautiful. I’m not sure how much I challenge my audience but I do enjoy poking and provoking and I’m well aware I’m a shit disturber. Male nudity seems to piss a lot more people off and spark more personal questions than female nudity and I’m cool with that.

The way you live and create seems unfiltered and visceral. How do you decide what’s worth capturing and when do you just live in the moment?

Whenever I’m on a surf or bike packing trip I carry a tiny pelican case with a Leica M2, three rolls of film, and a light meter. Every time, the group stops at a body of water and everyone gets naked and hops in to cool off. Everyone is off their phones and just fucking around. It’s kind of innocent and cute watching a bunch of guys chuck sticks and climb rocks in nature. This is when I just observe and capture what’s going on around me. I also love a photo where you can’t pinpoint time and location and the combo of nudity and black and white helps me get there.

In an increasingly competitive art world, how do you separate yourself from the noise while staying true to your vision?

It’s a mental challenge but I know the best work I do is the work I do for myself. So I just try to focus on making work that feels good to me. It’s a bonus if the viewer can relate to the work in a way I experience it, and it’s rewarding hearing how others interpret it in their own way.

As someone who exists so fully in their own world, how do you see yourself within the larger context of photography, art, or even cultural storytelling?

I guess I just tell people I’m a photographer. But I know deep down I’m an artist creating shit and hoping it sticks.

Are there any particular photographers or artists who you look to for inspiration?

My early career was inspired by Diane Arbus, early Annie Leibovitz, Ansal Adams, Sally Mann, and Ryan Mcgingley. These days Devin Oktar Yelkin, Jack Davidson, Dylan Hausthor, Erinn Springer, Jim Mangan’s work keep me inspired. All of them know how to wrench on a heart in darkness.

Outside of photography, what are you influenced by?

I love 90s skate culture, rock and roll documentaries like Cocksucker Blues. Woodstock 69/99, The Last Waltz, memoirs, adventure books, and so much music also inspire me.

Music–wise, what do you look for when shooting live events or shows? Are there any artists in particular you feel drawn to?

Every time I hear a song that gives me goosebumps it either goes into one of the two playlists on my phone. One is a sad heartbreak playlist, and one is loud wide eyed adrenaline. My personal work is usually inspired by the emotional sad Bon Iver, Zach Bryan, Kirin J Callinan, Aiden Ayers, Kurt Vile, but most the shows I attend and shoot are full-blown moshpits, Viagra Boys, King Gizzard, Amyl & and the Sniffers, IDLES, Turnstile, Fontaines DC.

If your photography were to leave behind a single message or legacy, what would you hope it says about you?

Honestly, I’m just happy to be seen out here in this space. I am lucky to make work that my family and friends support. I get to meet talented and kind people along the way and my peers and the people I look up to are high-fiving me. That’s fucking cool.

What’s next for you?

I’m working on putting a book together from over the past 15 years with “Boyish” being the common thread in the work. Perhaps a coming-of-age piece or something. I’d love to hop on tour with one of my favourite bands and shoot them in a docustyle manner and I hope to move to a larger art/fashion market like LA or NYC in the next year.