Simon Mark is a photographer and researcher from New Zealand whose upcoming exhibition, "Human Materials," opens at Kathmandu Photo Gallery this June 6th. In his biography, he notes that his work deals with human-made structures and explores the aesthetic possibilities inherent in chance occurrences. This statement instantly reminded me of the New Topographics movement of the 1970s, which focused on landscapes altered by human activity. However, his second point about capturing chance elements aligns more with street photography, creating an interesting contrast with New Topographics. That movement was entirely deliberate, defined by human intention to reshape nature, precise geometric composition, and a conscious rejection of traditional romantic beauty, like the grand nature photography of Ansel Adams.

Yet, after looking through most of the images, I feel that Mark uses his photography to bridge these two ideas through his own distinct approach. He captures human-made structures, embracing both their beauty and decay with an objective gaze reminiscent of New Topographics. However, his work avoids the sweeping landscapes of Robert Adams or the massive industrial structures of Bernd and Hilla Becher. Instead, he zooms in on specific details, which feels closer to street photography focused on public objects, yet his images are too flat and detached to fit into contemporary street styles. They actually share a closer affinity with certain series by the late Michael Wolf, famous for Tokyo Compression. Viewed together, it feels as though Mark is documenting these objects to serve as symbols for larger, more abstract systems, rather than tackling a single social issue.

Ultimately, these photographs are about human existence—what we build, what we do, and what we leave behind—much like how our own bodies function. On the surface, everything appears orderly and beautiful, like his images of concrete structures or the fluid rhythm of a driving range net. But when that surface is peeled back, a completely different world is revealed. It is the hidden machinery driving the exterior, a realm of production and its leftovers, seen in his shots of mechanical parts, wiring, and industrial waste. These elements support and evolve alongside the surface, completely inseparable from it. These images reflect the state of humanity and our world with an objective, detached coolness. As fragile individuals, we might just stand by and watch until the system inevitably breaks down, or we might step up to change its course. Whatever happens next, the outcome rests entirely on our choices.