Dagan’s photographs looked like they were shot simply, like casual glances into moments, scenes or scapes that you see photographers often explore; travel, portraits, mountain peaks and signage. In Dagan’s work, it wasn’t the subject nor a drop your jaw image. What drew me nearer was a deep warmth oozing from the photographs always impressive sheen, which transferred itself to me, as soul, profoundly so. The timing… just the right moment, I thought glancing from one to the next, colours apparent, light amazingly captured, but something lay deeper which shed light. Dagan Beach’s photographs were so real they looked, to me, like paintings. What makes great art I have always asked myself? To me, good art was when it never occured to me to think it wasn’t – when there was no question… but the need and desire to look further. Captivated by a shot taken in Nicaragua, by Dagan, I felt that tingling sensation on the back of my neck that I had often felt, but couldn’t figure out why, but I have learned it is a sure sign of magic. There was magic in these photographs.
Dagan Beach, I learned was indeed a photographer who had experienced much success as mostly an action sports photographer which had run its course of paid excursions and magazine spreads. But what was it that made them different? Obviously impressive were these shots taken, but something was amidst, so then I learned of his other skills. A Dj for fifteen years, Dagan pumped out rhythmic beats, journey beats, heart and soul sounds which tugged at your heart strings, sounds you couldn’t help but love and the odd time not, which put you in the sweet spot of bittersweet, real, as we all know the journey is. It was the recovery which made these tracks exciting, like the constant recovery from any bump we tripped over to discover along our path. This brought me to realize that this man had been on some journey, inquiring further of where, it seemed it was not really anywhere that mattered, but it was a journey of the heart. I could hear it in his music, it hadn’t always been easy, but nonetheless, always moving and always soulful, always rythmic, making sure the unpleasanties in life were equally celebrated as much as the good ones left me with goose bumps. His material exhalted and inspired, with a reliable order in the midst of what I imagined the chaotic life of an artist. I felt pure delight and comforted to know there was someone out there taking some serious notes of this amazing world we live in. And all the while, a charming, to say the least, attitude that if all else fails, tell a story! I sat back and listened carefully to sounds paired with the fresh imagery of his photographs swimming in my mind. Soul photographs and melodies of the heart set me in a trance to know more.
Dagan was born in Toronto, but remains a humble talent of his town, Whistler, British Columbia. Like a growing number of people involved in outdoor culture, the practice of yoga is imperative. Sore limbs from full days on the mountain, especially from the likes of a man who chases after athletes jumping of mountain peaks, is a must. Dagan is evidently a ‘religious’ believer in the human form, our sacred form. The physicality of this practice was of course impressive but spiritually, here was someone who had opened up a vertical dimension, a dimension of depth. A person who holds a past full of surrendering their limitations to the flow… to become a teacher. The way Dagan spoke was in an obvious tone with your best interest at heart, the true humane workings of a teacher.
From the first moment I met Dagan, I felt like I was learning the weavings of a Shaman, so many talents woven together to create this spirit, was my witnessing the life of a true artist. When we face it, only those who are courageous enough to delve into the magic, mystery and metaphors of our art, do we experience how our art truly becomes interesting… irrespective of success or recognition. There is a profound beauty and deep magic emmanating from within this intriguing man, if you ever are so lucky to catch a glimpse of…
Samera Gibson, sameragibson.com