Through Light Leaks and Dreamy Frames, the Soul of Place Emerges
There’s a kind of magic in letting go of precision.
That’s the philosophy behind Jan Werthwein’s latest photographic exploration—an evocative journey through place using a Lomography camera inspired by the iconic Holga. The results are haunting, dreamlike, and wholly human.
With its plastic lens, light leaks, and limited exposures, Holga-style photography is far from perfect—and that’s the point. Where digital photography offers control, Lomography invites you to surrender it. What you get in return is something rare: photographs that feel less like records and more like memories.
“My favourite aspect of Holga photography is that it’s human,” Jan reflects. “Even the coldest subject retains a spark of energy. You can sense the thought behind every shot—the moment of hesitation, the choice to pull the trigger, knowing you only have a few exposures left.”
In this series, Jan travelled across small towns and quiet spaces with a camera that could never quite promise consistency. Each image was a leap of faith. He paired photos intentionally—groupings of two that, together, create contrast and unexpected connections. A rough brick wall might sit beside a soft cloudscape. An empty parking lot might mirror the shape of a winding rural path. Somewhere in the space between them, a third, more abstract idea begins to emerge.
This isn't about chasing perfection. It’s about being present.
By embracing the quirks of Lomography—the blurred edges, the vignetting, the accidental flares—Jan taps into a visual language that feels both distant and familiar. His images aren’t glossy or exact. They’re messy, moody, and deeply intentional. They ask you to slow down. To look again. To feel.
At Locality, we see deep resonance in Jan’s work. His approach mirrors our belief that place is more than a setting—it’s an emotional landscape shaped by people, memory, and meaning. Lomography, in this context, becomes more than a technique. It becomes a metaphor: for imperfection, for humanity, and for the unpredictable beauty of places when seen with care and curiosity.
This photographic exploration reminds us that great storytelling doesn't require perfection. Sometimes, the strongest sense of place lives in the flaws—in the quiet accidents, in the off-centre compositions, in the fingerprints left behind by both the photographer and the camera.
