Daniel Koeth
Blue skies forever and smiley faces are something anyone would love being associated with... and with Daniel Koeth, it just happens.
Lisbon, May 2025
We sat across from each other: me in Portugal, and DK in the United States. As much as we love to complain about how technology diminishes human connection, moments like these make me feel differently. Sitting "across" from a friend on the other side of the Atlantic, simply talking, reminds me that maybe it's not all that bad after all.
Our conversation begins light-heartedly, with an unexpected common thread: a shared love for Marfa... I had to bring up Jamie XX, of course. Daniel admits to preferring the xx over the Jamie’s solo work. And then he jokes, with a smile, that he smiles too much for their usual melancholic sound. But it’s this tension, between joy and the darker undertones in their music, that actually resonates with the way Daniel approaches his own photography.
So I had to ask. Why the sky?
DK explained that it was deeply woven in with his love for the American Southwest, where he grew up. This is manifested in his signature style—a minimalist, almost haunting use of blue skies in his images.
“There’s something about the blue sky,” he reflects. He explained how there’s always a positive connotation linked to a blue sky, which is why he likes to overlay slightly darker themes on it. Blue skies are where he’s had both his greatest and most difficult memories. There’s an emotional universality to them, something that speaks to anyone, anywhere.
His work often features large blocks of color, reminiscent of Frank Stella or even Mondrian, and even Rothko. It’s a subtle way for him to challenge the viewer, pulling them into a space that feels both familiar and distant.
Our conversation takes an unexpected turn when I blurt out that something about his work reminds me of SpongeBob SquarePants. While his photography doesn’t visually echo the show, there’s an intangible spirit to it—something playful and offbeat—that feels very much present in Daniel’s work.
Daniel’s love for film came up next. He shared that Jaws is his favorite movie: he saw it for the first time when he was 9 years old. "I was terrified," he recalls, "but I was equally obsessed." That fear stayed with him for a hot minute, so much so that he was afraid to take a bath after watching it. He’s fascinated by his own reaction and the psychology behind the fear, which, he says, continues to influence how he looks at things today.
He then told me about how he started making short films. "I was always the main character," he says. Daniel wanted to work by himself, so he’d often conceal his face in his films, which was all about practicality. In elementary school, he made a short film with everyone in his neighborhood. The plot? Pretty much a scene-by-scene recreation of Gremlins, but he called it Evil Fluff Ball, using a Furby as the main character. "I still have that Furby," he grins. "It’s preserved."
There’s a matching story he tells of my childhood bunny going to a farm, where his personal story intertwines with mine, and both of use realised WAY LATER in life, that our bunnies ended up in a different kind of farm… Somewhere in heaven.
As the conversation shifts, he mentions the Phoenix Lights and reveals his loyalty to Messi over Ronaldo. He has the nerve of chuckling at the controversy it causes. We enter an argument that neither of us won (in my head, I did–but for the sake of diplomacy, a tie feels best).
And then, of course, we bonded over our love of dogs, cycling accidents and the people that led to us meeting in the ever so strange, yet wonderful world of digital art.
Thank you DK… And BLUE SKIES FOREVER.
Your friend,
–Joana