Tanya Marcuse’s new oversized book Ink, is a beautiful cacophony of form and symbolism.

One summer in Maine, photographer Tanya Marcuse’s son insisted they try nocturnal squid fishing. Moved by the uncanny spontaneity of the experience, Marcuse – who normally makes slow-process large format photographs – pulled out her iPhone and embarked on an unexpected series and way of seeing.

She began making similarly fleeting yet intricately crafted photos of squid spilling its ink across story titles, fashion advertisements, and marriage announcements. In each photograph, the squid, ink and newsprint become a painted, Rorschachy mess that pushes viewers to conjure their own relationships between ink and image, gesture and surface, headline and tentacle.

Marcuse’s images are both alluring and disquieting. These tableau-like still-life compositions reminds us of her background as a large-format photographer, and her iPhone brings a freeing informality to how she organizes form and space. Now a large-scale book (and limited edition folio, if you fancy) published by Fall Line Press, Ink takes on a new layer of tactility from its once digital-only existence – photos you want to hold and handle as you attempt to figure out their mystery. I spoke with Marcuse to learn more about her process and the story behind it.

Jon Feinstein in conversation with Tanya Marcuse