Do you remember an artwork of yours that you took great pride in as a child?
I can’t think of a particular piece, but I remember reading a lot as a child, imagining different worlds. I would collect all the calculators, anything with buttons and knobs in the house just to turn my room into a spaceship. Things like that. I think those were my first experiences with creating worlds that I otherwise wouldn’t have had access to.
How has your upbringing influenced the way you feel around people today?
I’ve always felt like a loner and this has allowed me to sit back and observe everybody else. I had awareness of this interiority at a relatively young age, it helped me with how to be apart from other people. I also think that this is mainly the reason why I began with documentary photography in the first place. I’ve always enjoyed being in the role of the observer.
What sort of effect does this mindset have on your social connections?
I like small groups and I love individual conversations. It’s only in crowded places and situations where I start feeling a little off. In different ways, but all my projects are pretty intimate. My work is very much portrait-driven simply because I feel more comfortable and free when I’m able to focus on one person at the time.
At the age 12, I became some sort of a TV-teen actor. A weird position in life and a harrowing experience for a child that I still couldn’t find the right words for. My project, Young Body is clearly dealing with these experiences, excavating my past, just like many other works of mine. There are questions that stayed with me for decades and I’ll still need to find the answers to them.
Looking back in retrospect, when was the first time you felt like you can fully identify with the work that you created?
There was a series called Room that I made back in 2016. I think that was my first work when I felt I really left my mark on something. It was a breakthrough in terms of my process, aesthetics and in terms of connecting with people as well.