Baroque gardens, monster sculptures and the Swiss artist H.R. Giger—these strange, almost otherworldly influences and motifs run through your work. What is it about that eerie quality that keeps drawing you in?
I’ve always been drawn to these universes—in literature, film, music, and art. I love oddities, worlds that exist beyond reality, and the beauty found within monstrosity.
What’s the most bizarre or magical place you’ve ever found yourself shooting?
I love La Scarzuola in Umbria, a surreal architectural maze full of symbolism. And of course, H.R. Giger’s house in Zurich is a must; an immersive, otherworldly space.
Your work often feels surreal, like it could belong to the world of filmmakers like Kenneth Anger and David Lynch, or the photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. How do you define your own visual universe?
It’s a mix of all these influences—the strangeness, the atmosphere, the queerness, the aesthetic—but with a feminine twist. Defining my own visual universe is still challenging, but perhaps it’s best described as gently irreverent, a female fantasy.
What role do clothes play in the stories you tell?
Clothes play a narrative role, but they also have their own dialogue with the body. They reveal something about a character while bringing a sensual and graphic quality – the textures, the colours, the way they move – that deeply resonates with me. They’re an integral part of the composition, but I also like to imagine that inanimate objects, like clothes, have a life of their own.