We recently had the chance to connect with Jonathan Knight and have shared our conversation below.
Jonathan, a huge thanks to you for investing the time to share your wisdom with those who are seeking it. We think it’s so important for us to share stories with our neighbors, friends and community because knowledge multiples when we share with each other. Let’s jump in: Have you ever been glad you didn’t act fast?
Yes, absolutely. One of the best examples in my life is my journey back into photography. Early on, I thought about pursuing photography as a full-time career right away, but instead I went down a different path—I earned two master’s degrees and spent about ten years working in landscape architecture and urban planning. At the time, I sometimes wondered if I was delaying my passion. But looking back, I’m actually glad I didn’t act fast.
That decade gave me a completely different lens—literally and figuratively—through which to see the world. I learned how to think about space, structure, and human experience at a very high level of detail. I learned discipline, project management, and how to take ideas from vision to execution. Those skills directly shape how I create and present my photographs today.
If I had only ever been a photographer, I think my work would lack that depth. Instead, I bring a layered perspective: I approach a landscape photograph with the same rigor I once brought to designing a public space, and I compose an image with the same awareness of movement and human emotion I once applied to urban design.
So, waiting to pursue photography full-time wasn’t a setback—it was essential. It gave me a foundation that makes my work stronger, more thoughtful, and ultimately more successful.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Jonathan Knight, an internationally awarded, self-taught photographic artist based in Denver. My work focuses on long-exposure black-and-white landscapes that transform familiar places into meditations on time, memory, and emotion. What makes my journey unique is that I didn’t start as a photographer—I spent over a decade as a landscape architect and planner after earning two master’s degrees. That background gave me a different way of seeing: I approach composition with an awareness of space, structure, and human experience that deeply informs my photography today.
My brand is built on a commitment to authenticity—everything I create is captured in natural light and developed using traditional darkroom techniques. Collectors often describe my work as “stunningly spare and surreal,” and I think that comes from stripping away distraction so the viewer can really enter into a dialogue with the image.
Right now, I’m developing new series that explore both the stillness of water and the drama of rock formations across the American West, while also expanding my presence in galleries and exhibitions. At its heart, my work is about creating photographs that not only hang on a wall but also linger with people emotionally, inviting them to slow down and experience landscapes in a new way.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. Who taught you the most about work?
The person who taught me the most about work was my grandfather, who was an architect. He showed me that work is more than just producing something—it’s about care, precision, and leaving behind something meaningful. I grew up watching the way he approached design: with patience, attention to detail, and a respect for both beauty and function.
That mindset has stayed with me, whether in my years as a landscape architect or now in my career as a photographic artist. My grandfather’s example taught me that great work doesn’t happen quickly—it’s built thoughtfully, with intention—and that lesson is at the heart of how I create my photographs today.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Yes, there was a point when I almost gave up. After more than a decade in landscape architecture and planning, I felt pulled back toward photography but also overwhelmed by the risks of starting over. I questioned whether it was too late, whether I had the resources or the courage to build a new career in such a competitive field.
What kept me going was realizing that my path wasn’t wasted time—it was preparation. The skills, discipline, and perspective I gained from my first career weren’t holding me back; they were giving me a foundation that made my photography stronger and more distinctive. That shift in perspective allowed me to see photography not as a leap into the unknown, but as a natural continuation of my story.
Looking back, that moment of doubt was important. It forced me to really commit—and I think that commitment is what makes my work today resonate with people.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. Is the public version of you the real you?
I’d say yes—the public version of me is the real me, but it’s a distilled version. What you see in my photography, in exhibitions, or even in interviews, comes directly from who I am and how I experience the world. I don’t create work to fit a trend or a persona; I create work that feels authentic, that reflects my own way of seeing.
That said, like most people, the public version doesn’t capture everything. There’s a lot of private experimentation, doubt, and long hours behind the scenes that people don’t see. But at the core, the values are the same: patience, authenticity, and a deep respect for the landscapes I photograph. So the public version of me isn’t an act—it’s just the part of me I’ve chosen to share most openly.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: If you knew you had 10 years left, what would you stop doing immediately?
If I knew I had ten years left, I’d stop spending energy on hesitation and second-guessing. For a long time I held back—questioning whether I was ready to return to photography, or whether I should take the safe path instead. What I’ve learned is that hesitation is the one thing that steals time without giving anything back.
With only a decade to go, I’d focus all my attention on creating, sharing, and connecting—on making the work that matters most to me and putting it in front of people who might be moved by it. The things I’d stop are the distractions, the self-doubt, and anything that doesn’t move me closer to that purpose.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://jonathanknight.net
- Instagram: jknightphoto
