Self-portrait Wearing Red Socks, 2022
Self-portrait Wearing Red Socks is one of the central photographs in the series Two Ways to Carry a Cauliflower. When creating this photograph, I wanted to explore the gaze and its effect on the viewer. In my previous photographs I had always looked straight in the camera. In this one, I don’t look in the camera, which allows the viewer more space for interpretation. This photograph felt significant to me, and in many ways it was a step forward in this project. This photo communicates a strong, different presence. It was photographed in a home setting instead of against a backdrop like the other photos in the series. The location builds a narrative for the portrayed character and opens a new kind of view into its world.
Through photography, I have come to understand better the significance of the gaze. The direction of the gaze, whether it’s directed towards the camera or away from it, is built on minute details that make it work. Every time I photograph a self-portrait, I recreate myself and explore my feelings and how I’m feeling at that specific moment. The gaze is one of the most challenging elements, perhaps even the most important one, in creating a self-portrait. For me, the gaze has to be honest and convincing. It is important for me to recognize myself in the photograph.
True Lemons, 2019
True Lemons is one of my first photographs for the series When the Sun goes down We see Lemons. This self-portrait is photographed in our old home in the Netherlands with my friend and then-flatmate Helmi. At the moment this photograph was taken, we didn’t know each other all that well yet, but it was the beginning of our friendship.
Helmi has an important role in this project, and with her I learned to understand what femininity means to me. We explored together the definitions of femininity and friendship. The openness and warmth of our friendship allow me freedom to express myself. For me, the photographs in this series are collective self-portraits. The photography sessions were always constructed in tight cooperation with friends. We picked the clothes together from each other’s wardrobes, discussed different postures, and everyone’s voice was heard. The photo sessions reminded me of playing dress-up as a child, and Helmi’s room became a spot for a weekly form of being together, where we invited friends to join us. Photography is also my way of expressing that I care about my friends; it’s my love language.
Untitled Hungry Caterpillar, 2022
My process involves shopping in flea markets to find props and costumes for my photo sessions. Flea market shopping is a kind of treasure hunt or expedition. I never know what I’m going to find. I like this kind of obscurity and uniqueness. It’s important to me that the items are used, and I often take pictures of items with my phone even if I don’t buy them. This is how I document my observations and what has inspired me in that particular moment.
The tent got my attention at first sight. I immediately saw different possibilities and ideas for creating a photograph. Before every photography session, I plan meticulously the clothes, props, poses, and what kind of an ensemble I want to create. I make drawings of poses in my sketchbook and use these to support my ideas in the photography session. Untitled Hungry Caterpillar was inspired by Lowly Worm and its adventures. In the tent, my cousin Nelly and I join to form a caterpillar with two selves. The photograph has been taken at our summer cabin, and my mother acted as photo assistant focusing the camera. Photo sessions are full of joy, especially when the experience is shared and part of collective activities.
Ball pit installation
In 2022 I found two huge bags of ball pit balls in the Reuse Center. These balls have given given lots of joy, and they have given the spark for many self-portraits. I’m intrigued by their shape, which has intuitively come up in several different photographs of mine. I wanted to include play as a physical part of the exhibition. The exhibition guests are invited to participate in the play and dive in among the waves of the ball pit. I hope that this space will awaken an inner child of sorts. I feel that play makes possible new ways and forms of being. It sets you free and knows no norms, because imagination has no limits.
