Moby's extraordinary photography exhibit Innocents, on display at Project Gallery in Hollywood through March 30, showcases the photography he created concurrently with his deeply poignant Innocents album. The connected art and music reveal contrasting elements, expressing distinct emotions and representing unique experiences.
Moby: It's funny. It's such a good and valid question, and I don't have an equally good and valid answer. It frustrates me because I want to be able to have this succinct answer that very clearly says, oh, well it's like this. But, the truth is they are so different.
I mean music is something that I do in a confined space by myself and I'll work on a song for a year. Music is so inextricably wedded to time. You know, you can't experience music without a fixed amount of time. To listen to a song you could listen to it loud or quiet, but it's always going to take the amount of time that the song is.
Whereas, one of the things I love about photography is that it's really up to the viewer. Every way in which someone interacts with static art – whether it's painting, sculpture, or photography – it's completely up to the viewer. How close you get, how far you back off, whether you spend an eighth of a second or two hours involved with something, I find something really interesting about that because the art itself doesn't change. It's static. But, yet, an individual's relationship to it can change.
It's almost a form of cognitive behavioral therapy or exposure therapy. The stimulus stays the same in the form of the art and the relationship to it transforms.
I guess also, in a weird way, the music that I make I think is more enveloping and emotional and the art that I make is, hopefully, a little more sort of off putting and disconcerting.
I want people to feel engaged by the art, but I want it to be unsettling. I don't want someone to look at my art and feel comfort from it – it should be a little bit uncomfortable, whereas the music that I make is very comfortable.