September 2026 — When a Series Finds Its Voice
Studio Letter — September 2026
Welcome to this month’s Studio Letter.
Not every series begins with a plan.
Sometimes I know exactly what I want to explore before the first image is created. But just as often, a series reveals itself much later. Individual works begin to accumulate, certain forms return, similar gestures appear again and again, and eventually something that seemed accidental starts to feel like a language of its own.
This is one of the most interesting parts of working with images.
A single photograph can exist perfectly well on its own. But when several works begin to share the same rhythm, atmosphere, or visual tension, they start changing one another. An image that once seemed isolated suddenly becomes part of a larger conversation.
This does not necessarily mean that every photograph must contain the same subject or be created in the same way. For me, a series is rarely defined by such strict rules. What matters more is the feeling that connects the works.
Sometimes that connection is obvious: a colour, a particular kind of light, a recurring object, or a specific environment. At other times it is much more difficult to describe. It may be a certain stillness, the position of the body, the relationship between a figure and the space around it, or simply an atmosphere that continues to return.
And often I recognise that connection only after the images already exist.
This is also where selection becomes important. Creating images is only part of the process. The other part is looking at them together, removing what does not belong, allowing unexpected relationships to appear, and gradually understanding what the series is actually trying to become.
At some point, the collection begins to have its own voice.
The artist’s task then changes slightly. Instead of forcing the work in a particular direction, it becomes more about listening to what is already there and deciding which images strengthen that voice and which ones distract from it.
This month’s Gallery of the Month, Aqua Femina, developed in exactly this way.
The starting point was the female figure and water, but the connection between the works gradually became broader than water itself. Reflection, transparency, flowing fabric, suspended movement, wet light, stone, colour and the sensation of weightlessness all began to belong to the same visual world.
In some photographs, water is clearly present. In others, it is almost absent. Yet the sense of fluidity remains.
And perhaps that is when a collection truly becomes a series: when the individual images no longer need to explain why they belong together.
They simply do.
This month, I invite you to discover Aqua Femina — twelve works connected by the female figure, water, movement, and the quiet transformation that happens somewhere between them.
Thank you, as always, for following my work.