Artist Interviews 2025

Kevin Cooley  
By Laura Siebold



Kevin Cooley has seen many fires in his life. As a photojournalist based in Los Angeles, the artist regularly seeks out active burn areas, documenting the flames, as they devour the places we call home. When the Eaton Fire started, his own home went up in flames. In his interview, the artist shares his story and highlights the importance of longevity and respect in his profession. Kevin aims to make people “confront their relationship with the environment” by exposing them to the reality of climate change and the threat of wildfires in his photography. Kevin’s story is one many Angelenos share; hope remains for what will come next.



Kevin, like so many fellow Angelenos, you lost your Altadena home in the Eaton Fire in January 2025. It is incredible to see the efforts you make not only in showcasing your work but also in sharing your story with the community. How has the reception to your work been in recent exhibitions?


Laura, I appreciate you taking the time to ask these questions and for sharing my story. The experience still feels surreal, and talking about it has been part of the process. The reception to my work has been deeply moving—bittersweet, really. I’ve connected with so many artists who’ve undergone similar trauma. There’s a shared sense of grief, but also resilience.



As a photographer in Los Angeles, you have witnessed many wildfires firsthand. What is your approach when documenting these fires, and what rules must always be respected?


My approach has always been to go straight to the fire—then slowly back away. I move instinctively, assessing the scene while ensuring I respect private property and stay out of the firefighters’ way. If there’s an opportunity to help someone, I don’t hesitate. Safety and respect always come first.



Have you received a formal photography education, or are you self-taught? How do you define success in this industry?


I have an MFA in Photography from the School of Visual Arts. My career has thrived by maintaining a foot in both the editorial and fine art worlds. Success in this industry is about longevity—continuing to create, evolve, and sustain meaningful work over time.



Your photographs often explore the four elements and the ways climate change has altered the way we live. What has been the most profound change you’ve noticed in recent years?


The wildfires. There used to be a fire season; now, they happen year-round, with greater frequency and intensity. The landscape is changing, and so is our relationship with it.



Do you do commission-based work? How do you connect with your clients and their stories? Have these experiences influenced your photography?


Most of my commissioned work is for publications and news media. Photography has taken me around the world, exposing me to a vast spectrum of human experience—from celebrity mansions to shantytowns. Regardless of where I am or who I’m photographing, I approach every subject with the same level of respect. That perspective has shaped how I see and document the world.



Are there any artists or photographers who influenced you early in your career? If so, how did they shape your work?


I was initially drawn to the raw energy of New York street photographers—Weegee, Garry Winogrand, Lee Friedlander, and Diane Arbus. Their work inspired my move to New York, where I lived for over fifteen years. In grad school, my focus shifted toward more structured, conceptual approaches, influenced by Stephen Shore, Joel Sternfeld, Andreas Gursky, and Hiroshi Sugimoto. This shift led me from urban themes toward environmental landscapes.



How can photography help communities navigate change and disaster?


One criticism I hear is that I make these horrific events look beautiful—and I get it. But beauty has the power to draw people in, to make them look longer, to make them think. These disasters are becoming more extreme and frequent. My work isn’t about glorifying them; it’s about making people confront their relationship with the environment.



In your opinion, will the artist community in Los Angeles change as a result of this disaster? What can we learn from it?


I can’t speak for the entire LA art community, but in Altadena, things are going to change. The factors that made it such a draw for artists—affordability, space, nature—may never be the same. The cost of rebuilding is staggering, and the risk of fire remains. I never want to go through this again, especially as I get older.




What is the most meaningful project you’ve worked on in your career, and why?


That’s hard to answer. Every project has meant something different to me at different times. But fire has been a dominant theme in my work, both personally and professionally. I used to think I was chasing fire, but maybe it’s been chasing me. Book for purchase: “The Wizard Of Awe” (The Eriksay Connection, 2024)



If you could have saved one more thing from your Altadena home, what would it be? Are you planning a photographic series or similar with objects found in the rubble?


There were so many things I wish I could have saved, but there was no time. I’m grateful for what little did survive—those few objects now hold immense significance. I thought I would. I went back to Altadena, expecting to document the aftermath, but I haven’t been able to. Emotionally, I’m too close to it. I keep returning, but I don’t take photos. For now, I think I’ll leave the documentation of the remains and the recovery process to others.