"For much of our lives, we would have been embarrassed to sit solo in a restaurant, let alone at that long tall table serving colorful cocktails."

—Michelle Willens

Earlier this year, acquaintance Nancy Scherl published her first book. Entitled Dining Alone: In the Company of Solitude, it explores the experience of being a solo diner in a public space where, depending on the kind of restaurant, being alone may not be the norm—at least, pre-pandemic. She made the series in a period covering over 30 years, concluding in 2020. In my view, a book appears to be the ultimate form to cover shifts in recent historical trends and attitudes about dining—and being—by oneself. 

Many people think of the state of being alone in strictly negative terms. Yet some people, especially introverts, prefer time by themselves over large group settings. Too much isolation can also harm people, it's true. The adversity attributed to being alone includes making us more vulnerable to our inner critic; it can lead to painful loneliness, even clinical depression; it can be, in turn, bad for our physical health. However, solitude also has indisputable benefits, which include allowing our brain to relax and recharge; it may increase personal productivity; it can boost creativity; it may strengthen relationships with others, especially for introverts. Scherl garnered her point of view about being alone from the example set by her mother. In general, whether being alone is a pleasant or detrimental experience depends on personal circumstances and how comfortable the person is being unaccompanied. It can fluctuate with changes in a person's life.

Scherl classifies herself as a social documentarian, yet her style is cinéma vérité. There's something reminiscent of Philip-Lorca diCorcia in how I view Scherl's series. I find a similarity to diCorcia's Bruce and Ronnie 1982, in that Scherl, like diCorcia, works in the liminal space between documentary and choreographed construction. DiCorcia's scene may appear unposed, but diCorcia has arranged the people and props and strategically lit the room. Scherl also directs her sitters to look outside the frame and illuminates her settings. Can an environmentally-controlled, photographer-directed image indeed be a documentary one? Like the narratives of the uncertainties of human life and the partial truths that photography gives us, it's up to you as the viewer to decide. The story we garner from each image is the one we compose in our head and is part of what makes Scherl's book compelling. In the end, my viewpoint is that the work is social commentary.

Below you'll find my interview with Scherl. We've spoken about her life, her view of her work, and the making of her book. 

DNJ: Tell us about your upbringing and background.

NS: I was born in New York City; my family moved to New Rochelle, NY, during elementary school. My parents were warm and generous people who loved the arts, culture, and travel. I have an older sister and a younger brother. Movie night was frequent and fun for my family, and I also have fond memories of spending holidays and vacations together. Sadly, my father passed away when I was a senior in high school—going away for college presented challenges for me because I was dealing with the loss of my dad and my concern for my mom.

My mother was a beacon of strength; she defined what independence meant. After my father passed when she was 42 years old, my mother continued to grow instead of shutting off from life. She pursued her interests alone when it wasn't possible to have friends join her. My mother's philosophy imbued me with the ability to be at peace both alone and when life veered from its more expected path. 

It was a blessing to have all four of my grandparents alive long enough for me to get to know them well. In particular, one grandfather, Harry, was a stalworth of strength for my family and me both before and after my dad's death.

“I create imagery that lures viewers into psychologically charged worlds, allowing for reflection on the human psyche and individual circumstances. Just as important as what is within the frame is that which is unseen and falls beyond it.”

DNJ: What brought you to photography?

NS: My father was a photography enthusiast. My parents subscribed to Look, Life, and National Geographic magazines; as a child, I used to love flipping through the pages of these magazines. I know now that they piqued my interest in documentary work. 

I had an early interest in pictorialism. I received a Brownie Camera when I was seven years old. It was a joy to emulate my dad's family portrait sessions by setting up my stuffed animals to shoot group portraits. My love for photography and the visual arts grew with my parents' support and encouragement to explore that media. My passion for still and moving images evolved over time, as did my vision. I continued to shoot throughout my school years and was lucky to be able to try different cameras, such as my father's Rolleiflex. 

I attended the University of Wisconsin in Madison, where I studied fine art and documentary photography in the art and journalism departments. I spent hours in the darkroom in both departments. In my first year there, Cavalier Ketchum, one of my favorite professors, taught me the distinction between 'making' versus 'taking' pictures. I was lucky to attend college during an era when yellow journalism was a focal topic, and the anti-Vietnam War movement was active on Madison's campus. These were heady times; students questioned the effect of news media and the use of truth and facts. It caused me to want to create genuine authenticity in my images. I explored many genres of photography concurrently while gravitating towards portraiture—continually experimenting and making conceptual, candid portraits that attempted to blur the boundaries between staged and street photography. 

DNJ: Who are you as an artist? What is your overarching vision for your work in general? How do you use your voice in your imagery? 

NS: I am a social documentary fine-art photographer. I create imagery that lures viewers into psychologically charged worlds, allowing for reflection on the human psyche and individual circumstances. Just as important as what is within the frame is that which is unseen and falls beyond it. I strive to express my voice visually as shaped by my life events, a voice deeply enmeshed in my psyche. When I work on a series, it is deeply personal. I often consider the work to be biographical as well as autobiographical. I draw from pictorial and documentary genres, mainly when working on portraits, where I frequently invoke metaphors. 

With my more conventional documentary work, like photographic essays, I immerse myself in my subjects' stories and work to get their point of view across to the viewer. However, in my personal series, such as portraiture, I focus on having the work convey both my thoughts and the subject's. I frequently create tension and interest by having my sitters look beyond the frame for me to react to what they see or imagine. I'm making visible who they are, what they are thinking, who (if anyone) they are interacting with, and what emotion(s) they may be experiencing. 

We live our lives as the observer and/or the observed with a multitude of feelings and emotions. It is perhaps more outwardly evident to viewers in my portrait work over my documentary work, but it's always present.  

“I often consider the work to be both biographical as well as autobiographical. I draw from pictorial and documentary genres in much of my work, notably when working on portraits, where I frequently invoke metaphor.”

DNJ: What causes you to look at an image and decide, "I'm ready—no, IT'S ready—to be seen by the world"?

NS: If the image taps into my psyche, it is ready. When I can relate to my subject's facial expression, the image is strong, and there is enough information for a viewer to devise their own story, I am ready for the image to be brought into the world. 

DNJ: Are there any artists that influenced you and how you worked as you started to do this project? If so, who? How did their work influence what you did? 

NS: Overall, many different artists have influenced me. However, as I photographed this series Edward Hopper's "Nighthawks" was in my mind. Hopper had masterfully deconstructed the scene within the restaurant; he used his paint strokes to emphasize the solitude encompassing the diners and lighting to accentuate further the mood he sought to portray.

I'm also influenced by Cartier-Bresson's idea of 'the decisive moment.' When I photographed the diners, I waited to capture the facial expressions and body language I related to the most. 

DNJ: Why diners? Why solo diners?

NS: The series visually portrays the independence and strength I feel when alone, despite the potential adverse effects that being unaccompanied might have. The restaurant interior, as a public space, is a site of visual exploration of how people experience the complexities of solitude in public. 

At first glance, each lone diner offers a statement about their solitude. But, the work is multilayered—there is another layer beneath where the viewer could consider the image more abstractly. Given that I have set up a staged, controlled setting and lighting, I am imbuing the image with my viewpoint and feelings. At the same time, a viewer has the agency to interpret the subtle cues in the diner's expression and to make judgments about what they see or to observe others without judging or forming a narrative—just as when we ‘people watch.'

DNJ: At what point during the 30 years did you realize this was a longer project vs. a few images in series? 

NS: Shortly after I started photographing the lone diners, I envisioned these images as a series or a story about being alone. Completing an MFA at the School of Visual Arts helped me to crystallize the importance of completing this project.

I gradually worked on the series while working on other personal and commercial projects. Because I believed the work had an enduring quality, I didn't feel compelled to complete the project within a specific timeframe. My vision was to make images about this topic that were timeless, universal, and that I related to on a profound level. 

DNJ: How did the series come to be the book Dining Alone: In the Company of Solitude?

NS: In 2019, I brought the Dining Alone series of images to Photolucida Portfolio Review. The feedback was highly positive, and I received several publishing offers. Suddenly and unexpectedly, I had something to consider: should I make a book, and if so, should it be with an established press or a self-published work? 

I took my time all the way through: from taking the images to forming a project to publishing. I wanted to learn my options and consider the complete process of fine art book publishing before I was willing to invest.

Factors I needed to consider included how to fund the project, what form the book would take, and which images to use. (I had already obtained model releases—and in many cases, property releases. My practice is requesting written permissions because I think that people like to see, in writing, my intent for using their image.) To better prepare, I took an editing class, consulted with a well-known photobook designer to edit and sequence images, then hired a designer. At that point, I was in a position to decide whether or not to self-publish.

DNJ: How did the pandemic, with its social distancing and isolation, affect this project? 

NS: COVID impacted the project in an unforeseen yet somewhat serendipitous manner. The book was ready to publish by the end of 2019, but after the pandemic erupted, I decided to wait. The virus didn't discriminate, and we were all vulnerable to its consequences. So it happened that after the pandemic started, I was sitting outdoors in a cafe when I had an 'aha!' moment—I realized that it was essential to include the pandemic dining experience. "Essential" because dining alone became symbolic of the pandemic; it was an aspect of solitude that most people had never experienced. It highlighted feelings of isolation, alienation, and loneliness and is now part of a shared human historical experience.

Conversely, the pandemic connected us in ways we would otherwise not have known. It forced us to pause, reconsider, and deconstruct how we lived. These photographs of dining alone during the pandemic also remind us that we necessarily came to terms with our solitary dining experience. 

I made additional images that focused on the outdoor dining that occurred and added them as a second section. That brought extra fullness to the project and hence the book.

DNJ: Who is the target audience, and what do you hope they take from the work? 

NS: This series is for people who love fine art photography and, more specifically, fine art portrait photographers though I also hope it will appeal to all photographers. Other people who would enjoy the work are those who love to 'people watch' and those who are reflective and insightful. 

When we 'people watch' or dine alone, we might interpret or analyze others' circumstances and project our feelings onto their situation. My goal is for the viewer to relate to these scenes and connect them to their feelings about solitude and being alone. My point of view is subtle but present: one can be alone, strong, independent, and comfortable in one's skin. Showing solo diners is my way of conveying this. The images lure viewers into a place and invite them to construct a narrative. Literal and abstract thinkers may invent incredibly different interpretations. The viewer may or may not agree with my view, depending on their thoughts about solitary experiences.

DNJ: Do you have any advice for others considering tackling a book project?

NS: For sure! You must consider several essential issues to determine whether you want to invest your time and money in making a book.

The most important thing is to believe in the work that you want to publish. Publishing has many unknowns, and the time and monetary investments are high. 

Subsequently, it is valuable to define your audience. What kind of publisher is best suited to where they are? The choices include self-publishing, an academic press, a small press dedicated to photobooks, or a more traditional publisher. The choice you make here impacts many other aspects: Who will do the design? What will the distribution be? Who will do the publicity? What about marketing? It's imperative to research and determine all this before deciding on what might be the best route to go.

Consider the paper's quality, feel, look, and price. Research the cost of printing. A 'vanity press' might be beyond budgetary constraints. If you decide to make a limited-edition smaller run, self-publishing might be a better option.  

Depending on your background, you could take an editing class, find a mentor, hire a good designer, or combine some or all of them. I found these invaluable resources to my process while creating the book.

It is also vital to keep moving forward (spoken in my mother's words!) Just keep moving forward even if you believe you might have made a mistake. Someone recently asked me if I'd made a profit yet. My answer was clear—I was interested in breaking even and never expected to make a profit. You can't always put a monetary value on how much you gain from investing in such an endeavor. I wanted the psychological closure that publishing this long-term, personal 'passion project' brought. I've received many thoughtful, personal notes from people who bought and appreciated the book. 

Finally, publishing this book propelled my career's trajectory forward in ways that I could never have imagined, and it continues to surprise me. You might find the same, too.

DNJ: Do you have a favorite image from the book?

NS: One of my favorite images is "Morning Glory." It's a photograph I made of my mother, Lila, right before the pandemic started. My mother passed on in July 2021, before the book was published. She was very fond and supportive of the project . I’m happy she had seen the book dummy and knew I had dedicated it to her. I love this picture of her; it memorializes my mother's independence, vigor, and joy of living. 

“The series visually portrays the independence and strength I feel when alone, despite the potential adverse effects that being unaccompanied might have.”

DNJ: Thank you so much, Nancy for this glimpse into you, your work, and the passion you bring to your subject. I look forward to seeing what you do next.

Dining Alone: In the Company of Solitude. (2022; Hardcover; 136 pages; 76 Color Photographs; 8 x 10 inches)

More info about Dining Alone: In the Company of Solitude can be found at Daylight Books website.

Nancy Scherl is a fine art photographer specializing in social documentary portraiture. She was awarded an MFA in Photography, Video, and Related Media at New York City’s School of Visual Arts, following undergraduate studies in documentary and fine art photography at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Scherl is a member, Treasurer, and President Emeritus of the American Society of Media Photographers and a board member of the Katonah Museum Artists’ Association. Scher also founded and produces Coffee Shop-Talk, a round table discussion series about art. Awards that have honored her work include the PX3 Prix De La Photographie Paris, the Julia Margaret Cameron Awards, and Photolucida’s Critical Mass. Venues in which her work was exhibited include A Smith Gallery, South x Southeast, the Katonah Museum of Art’ and the Hammond Museum. She resides in NYC.