©Cole Barash, Ecosystems, 2025 8 x 10 in, archival rice paper print

Every August we ask the previous Top 25 Lenscratch Student Prize Winners to interview a hero or a mentor, offering an opportunity for conversation and connection. Today Misael Hernandez and Cole Barash are in dialogue. Thank you to both of the artists.

I was introduced to Cole Barash’s work in the last year of my MFA studies. A new contemporary gallery was opening in Buffalo, so I decided to browse the artists on their website. Amongst the many talented artists, Cole’s tactile and dynamic work immediately stood out to me as an exciting practice in constant evolution. At the time (and still to this day), I was studying and experimenting through themes of landscape in the Pacific Northwest, geologic material, heritage, and the limits of photography, so I was compelled to come across a career that shared similar interests and was so invested and grounded in their understanding of the photographic medium. I would go on to get my hands on Barash’s latest monograph, Kayaker, a dynamic project that combines photographs, installation, sculpture, and personal narrative all under the same title. Kayaker left an everlasting impression, and I consider it to be a project worth coming back to again and again. Fast forward a few months, and the opportunity to interview an artist for Lenscratch, my immediate thought was to introduce myself to Cole and kick off an exciting conversation around his practice and the medium of photography.

Cole Barash (b. 1987) is a multidisciplinary visual artist whose practice spans analog, digital and archival photography, sculpture, and film. His portraiture and still-life works are distinguished by an organic, spontaneous intimacy, capturing moments of quiet, yet profound, connection. Barash’s artistic inquiry revolves around the interplay of color and composition between objects or temporal occurrences, often culminating in the creation of books or immersive installations. Drawing from a childhood immersed in natural landscapes, his work remains deeply influenced by nature—not only as a physical presence but as a dynamic force that shapes both form and perception.

Barash’s work has been exhibited globally, and his books are held in prominent public collections, including the Franklin Furnace Archive and the MoMA Manhattan Artists’ Books Collection. His photography has garnered widespread recognition, appearing in esteemed publications such as The New York Times, The Guardian, Rolling Stone, The New Yorker, and Vogue, among others.

Instagram: @cole_barash

© Cole Barash, Spread from Kayaker, 2025

Misael Hernandez: Thanks for taking the time to talk today, Cole. I want to kick things off by asking about your early practice. I understand that your childhood on the East Coast and surfing and snowboarding in the West during your adolescent years had a profound impact on your practice, but can you share more about the transition that led you towards a career in the arts? Was there a specific project or tipping point that led you to pursue the path of a visual artist?

Cole Barash: Pleasure to be here, and thank you for your interest in developing this interview, Misael. From ages 18- 22, I was a snowboard photographer working for Forum Snowboards and Transworld Snowboard Magazine. I essentially spent 10 months of the year chasing snow around the world with a select few snowboarders on the pro team. We worked hard in the mountains to deliver images for the magazines and the brands’ campaigns. One day, a photo ran in a magazine, and the art director decided to crop my image to an 1/8 of the composition before it went to print. I was quite furious and realized at that time, at 22, it was time for me to move to NY and continue to evolve in other aspects, spaces, and mediums. NY humbled me, mostly by being surrounded by such talented peers. Which at the same time, really pushed me. For the first time I was able to see hardcore artists and what it really looked like to have an art practice. I would do studio visits, have conversations, and get my work critiqued by these friends who had serious practices. I became completely committed and obsessed with the
medium of photography but also slowly started to become interested in painting, film, and eventually sculpture. I spent a year in Berlin and that really pushed it as well. I knew that if I was going to make the jump, it would be for the long haul. A life commitment of pushing, failing, refining, researching, experimenting, ever evolving. Never finished.

© Cole Barash, Nightsummit, 2023

Mis: What were some of the biggest challenges in leaping from a magazine staff photographer focused on action and thrill to a curious visual artist?

Cole: Basically, when I moved to NY, no one took me seriously. I had a portfolio of kids wearing XL clothing, mostly in the snow or surrounding environments. I realized I needed to start completely fresh, at the bottom, and take a serious period of time to go make work. Perhaps the first time I would make a real body of work was this period in 2014. I went to Iceland for a month with no real plan, just crashing on my friend’s couch in the darkness of January. While I was there, I was looking at a map a bit closer and found this island, Grimsey. I was fascinated by it, with a population of about 100 people and it only being three miles wide. It is located in the north of the Arctic Circle. I spent two weeks there, making portraits in people’s homes, getting to know the families, visually interpreting the island, going out on fishing boats and walking endlessly in circles in the wind-battered fields. Thinking but not overthinking, just reacting and recording. I eventually came back that summer for another two weeks to continue the work. This became my first monograph published by Silas Finch (2015).

© Cole Barash, Ashram in Sierrias, 2024

Mis: It’s great to see your work in the exhibition format, but it’s also great to see the photobook as such a necessary part of your practice. I’m curious as to what your main driving factor is when sequencing and crafting a book for release?

Cole: I used to think about the photo book as a final output of a body of work. I think now I see it as a layer, in addition to the exhibition layer. Sometimes combining them both and sometimes keeping the presentations separate. I think I’ve always been a fan of photobooks as it felt like the only entry point for me to become a collector. Versus buying expensive or large pieces, one can be a collector of photobooks and have a truly special and unique collection. I know I value mine so highly, as I often use them as reference or to have a new experience with a body of work each time I take a pass.

© Cole Barash, Spread from Stiya, 2016, published by Deadbeat Club

Mis: Your work, especially your recent work, covers themes of the landscape and its relation to people and the way they interact. Why are these themes so important to you?

Cole: The human race and our relationship to the natural world does fascinate me. I believe partly because we seem to be moving further and further away from it via time in our transports, hours every day on our phones and screens, and less and less time and communication with the natural world; it seems to be becoming distant quite quickly. As compared to even 10 or 20 years ago. I’m interested in when and how we interact, where are the differences? Where are the patterns? What and where are the lessons, and why are they there? I am interested in the communication between both of our worlds, not just visually but also in materials, memory, and experience.

© Cole Barash, Spread from Sound of Dawn, 2021 published by Library Man

©Cole Barash, Install image of Citrus exhibition at Pallas Gallery in San Francisco, 2024 (Spread from Kayaker)

Mis: Do you have any recent films, artists, events, writings, or experiences that continue to feed and inspire your exploration into human and nature relationships?

Cole: Nathaniel Dorsky’s short silent films have continued to blow my mind. I love how they’re only available to see via screenings. It is such a beautiful commitment to the craft. In addition, Andrea Zittel had a text I read a little while ago that talks about restrictions. Restrictions in her practice, such as space, time, routine, even down to the limited clothing, and how valuable that can be to be productive. Rather than having open reign. Beyond that, I think two of my friends continue to inspire me. Caleb Hahne Quintana, a painter, and his fascination with his family history, the Southwest, and the friction of masculinity and his feelings of sensible auroras. Erinn Springer, her commitment to the craft of photography and the lineage of it, exploring this line of Americana, nostalgia, and true human almost forgotten connection. Lastly, I’ll say I’ve spent quite a bit of time with a brilliant writer from Brazil, Claire Lispector.

The way she communicates text I’ve never experienced. It’s so intense; each sentence, I was hooked immediately. So incredible, alive, and specific.

© Cole Barash, I Close My Eyes to Move, 2023

Mis: I’m excited to talk about your last release, Kayaker. Which is a lovely addition to your career. It is without a doubt the standout across your catalog of books for many fantastic reasons. My favorite is that it smoothly mends the visual language of your love for dynamic subject matter, new mixed media installations, and a deep sense of personal presence through Kirra and a collection of familial photographs. On paper, this is a challenging book to get right, but you and Claire Hungerford executed it to a tee. Kayaker tests the boundaries of what a book can be. Can you talk more about the importance of its format and how it developed between you and
Claire?

Cole: Up until this point in my career, I had mainly published fairly traditional monographs with the exception of Stiya. I was interested in making more of an artist book for this specific work. Something that felt unconventional in terms of imagery, combining photographs, site-specific documentation, screenshots from a short film, installation views, text, iPhone pictures, film, digital. Perhaps, something where the through line was a bit more blurred or deeper in the water. Not so surface-level floating. I’ve realized that, in my practice, I have different outputs, mediums, and experiences, yet over the past few years I’ve come to see that it’s all really one output. One voice, continued statement, or a flow of statements/ideas/thoughts/objects. To me, this is what keeps the fire lit- into the unknown and Unexpected.

Claire is incredibly talented, very intentional, yet also not afraid to be unconventional. We talked a lot about the sequence, heavily about the text- what would it be? Where would it land? Why? Everything had a reason. What the paper would be, the cover. No image or image? The size. What did we want the experience to be as an object for the viewer, or at least one to start with?

© Cole Barash, Spread from Kayaker, 2025

Mis: Let’s shift over to your commercial and editorial practice. I’ve always had a hard time focusing on project making when out in the field. Especially if I’m in a group with tasks to summit, cover miles, fish, etcetera. Is it ever challenging for you in that sense to focus on the image-making process of a commission? The first thing that comes to mind is your Hardpack Magazine edition from Peru in 2025. How do you stay focused on the trek while also ensuring the work is being done?

Cole: It can be quite difficult to balance, for sure. I think it’s all about preparation when you are out in
the wilderness or high in the mountains. Not just gear before a trip but even setting up camp, collecting water, getting everything dialed in before the light is gone. I’d say I mostly focus on that and when something catches me, I react by documenting that thought and continue. Sometimes when I have a bit more time, such as setup at camp and have a few hours before dark, I will focus a bit more heavily on making work. Slowly, almost meditatively being in the environment and listening. That ascent of Mt. Pisco in Peru was quite an intense one. With never being that high in the mountains before, close to 19k feet, it was a different experience. One that required much more attention to the physical part, especially up high.

© Cole Barash, Sand Became the Earliest and Closest Friend of Water, 2025

Mis: I think most people would consider commissioned and personal practice to be two separate things altogether. But we’re beginning to see more and more of these two kinds of works in the same conversation when considering an artist’s legacy. The retrospective is a great example of this, where these two bodies of work can merge to create an overall experience. Is that something you resonate with as someone with such an engaging hand in the commercial field? How do the two practices inform one another?

Cole: I actually was thinking about this the other day. In the past, I would say I would heavily separate the two. Almost hiding the commercial work often, or at least not making it apparent in a lot of the commissioned work I had done. Mostly because I was hesitant to have my name attached to a brand or for it to be in the way of my real work I was focused on. However, now I agree things have changed. There are a few people whom I really respect that move quite well between the two. I also see it now as one fluid push forward. I enjoy a lot of the commissioned work I get not just visually but collaboratively between the stylists or good creative directors. It’s very different from my practice but in some ways, completely fulfilling. I will say some days I’m super burnt and need a break, which is where I value the studio. It’s my sanctuary, where I write, read and continue to explore in my own world. I think having boundaries for the two on the day-to-day blocks of time is helpful for me. However, as far as sharing, I feel that it’s becoming more and more fluid for the two to live in the same world together.

© Cole Barash, For a Time, Then, There Was Silence, 2025

Mis: When I consider the qualities of a great artist, evolution and risk are very important to me. When
I look at the progression of your work, I’m moved by the way you’ve continued to hit the finish line, but also move it further for the next race. In more recent years, you’ve begun to explore material and presentation. I can tell your installations and UV-printed pieces on climbing rope and technical fabrics are the culmination of endless trial and error. The results speak for themselves. How has the exploration of these mediums impacted your visual language as an artist?

Cole: Thank you for your kind words. Incredible to hear that people actually care and can see the through lines in the work. I’m generally a workhorse, like to put in the rounds, as well as feel failures. It makes me feel alive. I also think curiosity and experimentation are both things I value very highly in my life and practice. Continuing to set the bar higher or to the left or right keeps me interested, which I suppose keeps me pushing forward. I look at some of the artists that have come before me in the last 100 years, and the ones I am most interested in have continued to push past their labels or comfort zones. I think continuing this evolution and experimentation has impacted my visual language in the way of avoiding the expected, which perhaps would be boredom. It continues to push my questions, research, and expand my own possibilities. It’s kept me addicted to the craft and making things. I’m full-on obsessed.

© Cole Barash, Install view of Ecosystems, Prairie Gallery, 2023

Mis: Well, Cole, thanks for sitting with me today. Can you share a bit about any upcoming projects you’re working on? Any books or exhibitions on the horizon we should keep an eye out for?

Cole: Thank you, Misael! A true pleasure. Yes, I have been working closely with Paul Sheik at TBW Books, who is designing a new book of the work titled When The Wind Blows North, which I’ve been working on for the past six years. It’s to be released this fall – 2026. Paul is incredible, and I feel really lucky to be working with him. The book will be co-published by TBW and Deadbeat Club. Beyond that, I’ve been making new material by hand that I’m quite excited about. I will eventually be working with images on this new material. I am hoping to show some of this work in 2027.

Misael Hernandez is a photographer from Springfield, Oregon. His work utilizes documentary, sculpture, and archive approaches to decipher the culture, religion, and identity of his Mexican heritage and Northwestern American upbringing. These two cultures and the landscapes of the West have had tremendous impacts on his character and artistic practice. He now combines handmade adobe brick, sculpture, and historically sourced images to construct photographic works that refer to his sense of identity and its relation to a deep photographic time and cross-cultural shared experiences.

Hernandez received his MFA at the University at Buffalo and attained his BA from the University of Oregon. He has exhibited in Oregon and New York, including Blue Sky Gallery, the Center for Exploratory & Perceptual Arts (CEPA), and University at Buffalo Art Galleries. Selected awards include the Career Opportunity Grant awarded by the Oregon Arts Commission, the Film Photo Award Student Project Award, the SUNY Thayer Fellowship, and the Generator Grant, administered by The Buffalo Institute for Contemporary Art (BICA), funded by the Andy Warhol Foundation. Hernandez has participated in residencies at the Center for Photography at Woodstock and Anderson Ranch.

Instagram: @misaelhdzstudio

© Misael Hernandez, Mama, Tablet No.1, 2024

© Misael Hernandez, Map of the Mckenzie River Wilderness, 2025

© Misael Hernandez, Mountain Composition, 2024