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This space is designed to give you a deeper look into the stories, inspiration, and process behind the photographs you're experiencing in the exhibition.
A Boy with Double Vision
As a little boy, I had a severe squint which, apart from being quite an annoying part of daily life, gave me a peculiar sort of superpower: double vision.
I remember one particular moment from early childhood – I must have been three or four at the time. While watching television, I realised I could actually see two TV sets. One was more blurry, elusive, out of focus. And whenever I tried to concentrate on it – puff – it vanished. The remaining one wasn’t all that interesting to me, to be honest. I could summon the mysterious telly at will, but never quite hold it in focus. It felt like a promise of something far more exciting, more thrilling, than the ordinary one.
Many years later, I came to realise that my photography is, in a way, an attempt to bring that elusive telly back to life. It’s not about capturing what’s clearly visible – it’s about evoking emotion, about reaching for something just out of grasp. It’s about the chase, not the catch.
Title: Not a Pipe III
From the series: Not a Pipe
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Ela @elabella_bargiel
London 2025
From the series: Not a Pipe
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Ela @elabella_bargiel
London 2025
Breathing
No matter how much I enjoy the satisfaction waiting at the end of the road, the first few steps always send a chill through me. No matter how much I dread starting from scratch, it happens – again and again.
As a teenager, I had the curious realisation that I was wasting my time at school, so I launched into adult life rather early and abruptly. It wasn’t easy at the beginning, but with time it became more manageable.
Several years later, I started over again – this time as a newcomer in a foreign country. A bit of a rough experience, I’d say – one that teaches you a lot about yourself and the people around you. Quite the university. Each time, there were ups and downs. Breaths in, breaths out. Sometimes fuelled by adrenaline, more often with a knot in my stomach.
The good part is that the cramp eventually eases, and the stomach expands. The bad part is – it expands onto your thighs. That’s when you know: it’s time to start again.
These experiences led me to create a project entitled Germinal, which reflects on those moments of tension, expectation, and big hopes. The series consists of 12 photographs that evoke the sensation of breathing. It’s about gaining hope, losing grip, failing, hoping again, emerging, embracing, failing, breathing.
There is always the fear of failure – and the hope of overcoming.
A breath spans the space between the two.
A breath spans the space between the two.
Title: Germinal II
From the series: Germinal
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Magda @___ginger_whispering_angel___
London 2024
From the series: Germinal
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Magda @___ginger_whispering_angel___
London 2024
Memory
I have to admit – I have a very poor memory. I can’t learn or memorise anything without repeating it several dozen times. Then it sinks in. Eventually. But don’t hold your breath – it won’t stay for long.
Names, terms, labels – they slip my mind quite easily. What stays with me are the emotions, the atmosphere, the imprint a person or moment left behind. I might not recall your name, but I remember your kindness. I remember you going the extra mile, exhausted but relieved. I remember your smile, your laugh, the way you almost fell asleep standing.
My memory of you has multiple, overlapping layers. Each one tells a different and incomplete story. Together, they form something fragmented – like a broken mirror, like a shredded letter.
I don’t know if that makes sense to you. But it makes perfect sense to me.
I don’t need to remember your name. You are far more complex than two, three syllables.
Title: Portrait From Memory I
From the series: Portrait From Memory
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Hannah @hannahlockhart.official
London 2024
From the series: Portrait From Memory
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Hannah @hannahlockhart.official
London 2024
Self-Portrait
I like this photograph – it’s my self-portrait. If you look closely, really closely, you’ll see my reflection in the pupil. I like the size of me here. I like that it’s a reflection – so tiny, it almost goes unnoticed. And yet, you’re looking at me, and I’m looking at you. A quiet, beautiful communion.
There’s another layer to it as well. I once read a line that’s stuck with me: “Garbage in, garbage out.” It’s made me more mindful of what I take in – the artists I follow, the films I watch, the books I read, the thoughts I allow in.
And if you ask me about Murakami’s latest book (yes, that Haruki Murakami – I’ve read just about every single one of his books), I’ll tell you I haven’t finished it. I closed my eye halfway through.
Sometimes, it helps to know when to close your eye. Or your mouth, for that matter.
Title: The Phantom Vaudeville II
From the series: The Phantom Vaudeville
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Thaïs @thaisndt
London 2025
From the series: The Phantom Vaudeville
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Thaïs @thaisndt
London 2025
Cover Girls
My dad used to customise his mixtapes with photos of young ladies – probably sourced, as I now realise, from gentlemen’s magazines. The photographs showed highly polished and often overly excited women in extravagant poses.
I was six or seven the first time I “met” these ladies, and I distinctly remember the impression they left on me. It felt like facing something entirely unreal. There was no comparison between them and my mum – or even my aunt, who was famously skilled at sourcing the knee-high winter boots everyone dreamt of. These women were exotic, glossy, barely clothed (if at all). They looked as if they came from another world.
They were too perfect. And I was always looking for a scratch – a tiny flaw, a break in the flawless surface of their skin. But each one was immaculate, and each one looked exactly like the next: uniform, unified, indistinguishable. I found myself hoping for something that might bring them closer to this world – the world I knew.
Years later, I came across the old Japanese concept of wabi-sabi – finding beauty in imperfection – and it immediately made sense to me. It helped me understand my own aesthetic. When it comes to photography, wabi-sabi is one of the reasons I avoid highly polished images. I prefer the scratched, the blemished, the imperfect. I like wrinkles, scars, and signs of life. The unique marks that tell a story of experience and existence.
It looks like knee-high winter boots will always thrill me more than above-the-knee summer skirts.
Title: Memory Lanes III
From the series: Memory Lanes
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Beth @bethanylouiseslater
London 2025
From the series: Memory Lanes
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Beth @bethanylouiseslater
London 2025
Silence
If you know me, you’ve probably already realised I’m not much of a talker. I tend to stay on the quieter side of a conversation. My relationship with speaking has always been a bit peculiar. As a child, there was a point when I simply refused to speak at all. If there’s nothing to say, there’s no reason to strum the vocal cords.
I like silence. No background TV, no radio, no constant hum of news channels, incoming messages, or notifications. I have none of those. Just silence – so I can hear my own thoughts.
I also cherish the kind of silence you can share with someone else – the kind that doesn’t feel awkward. When you can speak with someone without actually speaking. That’s something rare. That’s precious.
With Jenny, who was modelling for this photo though, it was different from the very beginning. She was like mercury – quick, bright, ready to share every spark and every reflection. Like a butterfly effect in reverse. A miniature Hadron Collider.
And I’m honestly glad this photograph shows a different side of her.
This is her silence.
This is her silence.
And it finally feels like we don’t have to talk so much anymore.
Title: Moth on a Blade II
From the series: Moth on a Blade
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Jenny @jenny03211abc
London 2025
From the series: Moth on a Blade
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Jenny @jenny03211abc
London 2025
More Real than Real
You may ask me – why surrealism? And after a pause, I’d say: it’s simple, and it’s complicated.
There are three things I love about surrealism.
Firstly, experience. You don’t just see the image – the image happens to you. It’s not about looking, but about feeling. You have to inhale the scene, let it resonate with your emotions. If it doesn’t… well, don’t worry. Just move on.
Secondly, metaphor. The language of surrealism makes you think not only about what’s in front of you, but also about what’s hidden – what might be seen, and what can never be. It invites interpretation, opens up possibilities. It’s a metaphor, and an excuse, to express more than can be said in words. Or, in this case, in images.
Thirdly, humour. You can’t seriously take that head inside the curtain. It’s not a study of elephantiasis… is it? Unless you think it is. Then it is. You’re welcome.
Sounds surreal? Well – that’s surrealism for you.
Title: The Phantom Vaudeville I
From the series: The Phantom Vaudeville
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Jenny @jenny03211abc
London 2025
From the series: The Phantom Vaudeville
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Jenny @jenny03211abc
London 2025
Anti-Aryan Dolly
There was a man in my hometown who used to build life-size dolls. They weren’t particularly pretty – and they weren’t meant for girls. In fact, they weren’t even complete dolls. They were more like hastily assembled fragments – a collection of limbs and random body parts. He would arrange them in surreal configurations of arms, legs, and who-knows-whats, and photograph them – his crippled, fractured, fantastically distorted mannequins.
At the time, the Nazis were popularising their oppressive ideology of the idealised body – the concept of the Übermensch, and the myth of a privileged, superior race. In this context, creating fragmented, distorted dolls became a bold statement – a rejection of fascist glorification of the ‘perfect’ human form and Aryan supremacy.
A hundred years later, Hans Bellmer’s statement still resonates with me. Today, the Aryan might wear a different mask – but in essence, it’s still around.
Title: The Phantom Vaudeville V
From the series: The Phantom Vaudeville
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Manon @manon_srvg
London 2025
From the series: The Phantom Vaudeville
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Manon @manon_srvg
London 2025
Everything Hides Something Else
There’s something mesmerising about the structure of a Chinese box, Russian matryoshkas, or the tales of One Thousand and One Nights. One element unveils another, then another – and before you know it, you’re sinking deeper and deeper.
It’s like a dream, where one scene leads seamlessly to the next. The passage itself is soothing, calming – sending a gentle signal to the rational part of your brain: take it easy, relax, man, life is beautiful – make the most of it. I like that kind of transformation.
“Each thing you see hides something else you want to see,” said Magritte. That, to me, sounds like the perfect beginning of a journey.
This kind of unfolding reminds me of certain conversations – the ones where one story digresses into another, then into another still. An hour later, you can’t remember what the original story was, nor what sparked what, but you’re enjoying it all the same – the rhythm, the meandering, the dreamlike structure.
If you know what I mean – and if you enjoy that kind of flow – I hope you’ll enjoy this photograph.
There’s a story inside the story.
And no, it’s not just about the pipe.
Title: Not a Pipe II
From the series: Not a Pipe
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Ela @elabella_bargiel
London 2025
From the series: Not a Pipe
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Ela @elabella_bargiel
London 2025
Not a Pipe
You’re probably familiar with Magritte’s famous, playful paradox: Ceci n’est pas une pipe – This is not a pipe. In his painting, he points out that what you see isn’t a pipe, but a representation of one. You can’t stuff it with tobacco. It doesn’t function as a pipe. It merely looks like one. A simple but striking observation.
Magritte was referring to a painting. But what about a photograph? Is it just a representation – or something more real?
Unlike a painting, a photograph isn’t purely symbolic. Light from a real object physically hits the camera’s sensor or film. The image has an actual, causal relationship with the subject. That gives it a certain credibility – a sense of realness – that a painting doesn’t necessarily have.
So, in theory, what you see in a photograph is a pipe. Right? You can’t be wrong here. Well done.
Still, I’d take this pipe with a pinch of tobacco.
Title: Not a Pipe I
From the series: Not a Pipe
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Sanda @sanda.plavaraja
London 2025
From the series: Not a Pipe
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Model: Sanda @sanda.plavaraja
London 2025
Bunch of Daisies
I once heard someone say, “If you can’t handle orchids, then grow daisies.” And that made me pause for a while. It made me think about orchids… and daisies. Not that I have anything against daisies – quite the contrary. They’re lovely. But perhaps that’s it. End of story.
Then I heard someone else say (O’Keeffe, maybe), “I hate orchids – I paint them because they’re cheaper than models and they don’t move.” And that made me think about my models – how each one gave away at least a tiny piece of their soul. I’m deeply grateful for their generosity and creativity.
So, to all of you – thank you. A million times, thank you. Your input is beyond precious.
And then I hear another voice say that the only real sin is to be boring.
So I hope you find my photographs neither simply nice… nor sinful
Title: The Phantom Vaudeville III
From the series: The Phantom Vaudeville
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Styling: Sonja von Turon @sonjavonturon
Model: Charley @charchqui
London 2025
From the series: The Phantom Vaudeville
Prints: limited edition
Technique: Selective focus, multi exposure, texturing.
Styling: Sonja von Turon @sonjavonturon
Model: Charley @charchqui
London 2025
