Mark Rubenstein is a 24-year-old Kentucky-born Brooklyn photographer who takes pictures of a shirtless men, doesn’t own a camera, and wants to express what it feels like to flourish into self-awareness. His ongoing project, Common Place, is a three-part series about introspection and coming of age. According to his artist’s statement: “…[Common Place] unfolds to tell the story of one’s own personal evolution: the coming of sentience (the quality or state of consciousness).”

His compositions are both quotidian and otherworldly, conveying an eerie sense of stillness and vulnerability. His passively posing models remind me of Gregory Crewdson’s frozen theatricality, minus the spooky and threatening nightscape that Crewdson’s characters inhabit. I wanted to know more about Rubenstein and his work, so I asked him a few questions:

Do you do commercial photography in addition to the personal work available on your site? If not, what sort of day job do you hold?

I do not do any commercial photography. I really believe in pursing my project and ones that I feel I can contribute too. I view myself more as an artist rather than a photographer– I don’t even own a camera. To support myself, I work a day job at the magazine Photo District News. I have worked there for many years, starting off as a intern, and I now have a full time position. Which is good, because I am constantly surrounded by photography.

I wouldn’t say “opposition,” but I do get put in the category of homoerotic work. Which is frustrating, because the work has nothing to do with it. I have dealt with this issue for many years. The reason the characters in my series are shirtless and in boxers is due the fact that I want my images to be very classical and iconic. The world in which my images take place is an alternate reality. I want viewers to not be able to tell what period or time it is. I feel clothes really date work. I want to show the subjects in my series as their full selves, so I stripped them of everything. Some people are uncomfortable when they see my work– the images are very disturbing and strange– I’m defiantly not shooting what’s popular in the younger photography world.

What was it like growing up in Kentucky? Is there anything you miss about the South now that you’re living in Brooklyn? How did growing up there impact your artistic process?

I know it seems like a crazy place: people think everyone from Kentucky rides a horse and eats fried chicken. But it actually was a great place to grow up. It has a wonderful music and art scene. My work was definitely a result of my childhood and growing up. I really miss the South: it has this energy to it. I basically spent my whole life there– I went to college in Savannah, Georgia, as well. Brooklyn in a way is like a small town, everyone has their neighborhood and hangs out there. The one thing I really miss is the ability to travel on my own and going on long drives in the country, which is something I would do all the time in Savannah.

Artists are constantly hustling to get their work in galleries and drum up good publicity. You wrote an article for PDNedu with a lot of good suggestions on how to self-promote, but are ever times when you feel uncomfortable trying to sell yourself that way? Where do you draw the line between spreading the word and pimping yourself out?

I feel you have to do everything and anything to promote yourself. Because getting your work out there is the only way you’re going to survive. You need to be able to profit off your work. As much as people believe in art as this very precious thing, it’s also a business as well. For me to be able to sell my work is a way for me to fund new shoots and support and keep myself going. This is something I’m still struggling to do. I mean, some people are really fortunate, where they don’t even need a website– galleries will seek them out, and they can just focus on their work. But for the majority of us, we have to do everything to show people our work and our vision. I think you draw the line by representing yourself in a positive manner and showing self-respect, and not going to shows and other functions and using other people just to profit for yourself.

What’s the concept behind your latest series, Once Was? Is it a work in progress, or are you working on a different series?

All my work is viewed like a book. Each image image is like a new chapter in the story. Once Was is a part of the Common Place mythology and world: it’s just a new chapter in the same series. And for the new chapter I really wanted to convey this sense of overwhelming power and energy. For the first time we can really see the characters transforming into something else. They are traveling through themselves and time in the middle of a metamorphosis. I wanted the new work to be extremely expressive. With all the images in the beginning of Common Place, the characters are in a very internalized state– they seem stunned or almost in shock– they don’t quite know what is going on in their world. Now, in Once Was, they are beginning to be absorbed and taken on a incredible journey.