The Haptic Void

In an age of filtered images and curated personas, Kristina Nagel’s work stands out for its defiance of conventional beauty standards and exploration of depersonalisation. Through a blend of fashion and conceptual photography, Kristina abstracts the human form, questioning the very nature of identity and representation. In this interview, she reflects on her creative journey, the role of intuition in her process, and how her art confronts societal expectations, offering a new visual language that invites viewers to engage with discomfort, ambiguity, and raw authenticity.

Kristina Nagel’s first solo show in New York, USER 2, opens at Gratin on 8 May 2025, coinciding with Frieze New York.

hube: You’ve had such a diverse career, from producer to model agent, casting director, and curator. How have these experiences shaped your vision as a photographer and artist?

Kristina Nagel: Every role added a layer. I had to learn to see beyond the surface. Unconsciously, over time, I absorbed what resonated with me, and that became the foundation of my work. Now, it’s instinct over explanation and about capturing what feels real in a moment and authentic to me.

My approach to making work comes from a place of genuine inquiry rather than technical mastery. When you’re not bound by traditional training, you’re free to question everything—even basic assumptions about what photography is or should be. This outsider position isn’t a limitation; it’s actually a form of freedom. I can approach each image as a new problem to solve without being constrained by ‘correct’ methods or established ways of seeing. Sometimes, the most interesting things happen when you don’t know what you’re not supposed to do.

There’s a difference between technical knowledge and visual intelligence. I’m more interested in developing a way of seeing that questions our theories about representation than in perfecting conventional photographic techniques. This approach allows me to stay close to the raw impulse that drives the work rather than getting lost in technical considerations.

h: Your work often features distorted and blurred faces, a motif that symbolises depersonalisation. Could you elaborate on what this means to you and why you gravitate toward this visual language?

KN: Like certain particles in physics, some things are only observable through their effects, not directly. By removing faces or identifying features, I remove the easiest way to categorise or commodify a person. What remains is often more truthful than what we hide. There ́s a sense of liberation in becoming unrecognisable. I’m absorbed by that zone where normal views and interpretations cease to function—an environment in which the viewer has to engage with their own discomfort and uncertainty.

Depersonalisation is a core aspect of my artistic approach. It is not just about distorting or obscuring faces but about questioning the very notion of identity as something fixed.

A rejection of easy understanding.

h: You have said that your photography is more about feeling than explanation. How do you communicate those feelings through imagery, and do you think the viewer’s interpretation plays a part in the art itself?

KN: Photography, for me, is always a dialogue, but first and foremost, with myself. I’m very personal about how I take images—I want to feel good, inspired, or challenged. I don’t focus on how the viewer interprets my work. What I might be interested in is about how it makes them feel. I believe, in general, that the most powerful artistic gesture is to create something that resists easy categorisation or explanation. In doing so, I open up spaces of possibility in the viewer’s mind.

I’m convinced that if my images evoke a strong feeling in me during the moment of creation, and I know that it’s exactly what I want to work on, then that feeling will be transmitted to the viewer. This is why I choose my projects very selectively—because I understand the importance of photographing only what makes sense to me.

For me, the viewer’s interpretation is not crucial to the art itself or my process as an artist. It’s more about the emotional connection the work creates, not how it’s understood.

h: Your work with major fashion houses like Balenciaga and Rick Owens features distortions in different forms. Do you see fashion as a tool for exploring personal identity, or do you view it more as an aesthetic element within your art?

KN: Fashion, for me, is primarily an aesthetic tool to distort and reshape the body, creating new forms and perceptions. I often use materials like leather to explore the tension between structure and flexibility, pushing how these elements alter our understanding. My focus is not on personal identity but on using fashion to transform how we see and feel, challenging conventional norms and creating abstract, conceptual visuals.

Working with Rick is an incredibly rewarding experience. I feel very humbled and grateful to be a small part of his universe.

h: The title “User” for your exhibition invokes themes of depersonalisation. How do you think modern society, especially through digital tools, contributes to or exacerbates this phenomenon?

KN: We live in a time when everyone is expected to be constantly visible and available for consumption. My work explores what happens when we refuse that surface-level representation, when we choose to exist in the gaps and shadows of digital culture—the realms where identities are fragmented, concealed, or left to evolve without predefined labels.

In an era where visibility and constant availability are the norm, choosing to remain invisible becomes a radical act.

h: You’ve spoken about how your images challenge traditional beauty standards. Do you think these standards are evolving in a more inclusive and authentic direction in today’s art and fashion landscapes?

KN: Rather than focusing on whether the industry is changing, I focus on how I can challenge these standards with my work. I don’t want to follow trends or conform to expectations. I want to create images that make people question their understanding of beauty and see it in new, unexpected ways. Beauty, for me, is about breaking free from these rigid definitions and allowing for a more fluid, personal interpretation.

My work isn’t about rejecting beauty—it’s about finding beauty in what we usually try to hide or erase. There’s elegance in refusing to participate in conventional ways of being seen. I’m interested in how beauty can emerge from resistance, from choosing not to be visible in expected ways. It’s about creating spaces where traditional modes of viewing and understanding break down.

h: The sculptural quality you often bring to your models is fascinating. How does your approach to photographing the human body help convey a sense of objectification or emancipation?

KN: The sculptural quality that emerges in my photographs of the human body often stems from how I handle surfaces and geometry. I view the body not only as a living being but also as an artistic object that carries its own aesthetic significance. Through staging, I play with perceptions of form and structure, frequently pushing them toward abstraction, much like a sculpture existing solely in its physical presence.

While reducing the body to its sculptural qualities could suggest objectification, this process also shifts perception—the body is not only seen as an object but as a subject that tells its own story and expresses its own power. It is precisely in this reduction to its sculptural qualities—its lines, curves, and textures—that a blurring of the boundary between object and subject occurs. This reduction is not meant to dehumanise the body, but rather to open up new perspectives and contexts that go beyond mere physical presence.

I aim to represent the body in a way that not only emphasises its aesthetic beauty but also restores its inherent power. I am concerned with highlighting the subjectivity of the physique, showing it not just as a passive object of contemplation but as something active and independent. In my work, I hope to convey the complexity of the human body and its identity, evoking a sense of emancipation—so that the form exists not only as an object but also as a subject that expresses itself, acts, and tells its own story through its form and movement.

Ultimately, the dynamics between object and subject, between visible form and inner autonomy, are a central aspect of my artistic exploration.

h: You’ve mentioned that you work intuitively and avoid over-analysing your own creations. Can you talk about your creative process—how do you know when a photograph is complete or when it feels right?

KN: I work very intuitively and try not to over-analyse my own creations, because I believe that the creative process is strongest when it is more unconscious and almost spontaneous.

I try not to judge too harshly or plan too much. When I feel that the image really works—in its form, its mood, its intensity—I know that it is finished. It is less a rational, analytical process than a feeling that builds up and then reveals itself if you remain patient and do not force the result. There’s no strict formula, but there is an energy that develops and a feeling that settles within me when the photograph is in the right balance, whether it happens during the shoot or in post-production.

h: Is there a piece or project that you’ve worked on where the final result surprised you or where your personal connection to it shifted in unexpected ways?

KN: No, not really—there hasn’t been a specific piece or project where the final result truly surprised me in a dramatic way or where my personal connection shifted unexpectedly. I tend to be very intentional in my work and approach each project with a clear vision, especially when it comes to the human body and its sculptural qualities.

That said, the process of creating can lead to subtle, unexpected discoveries—small shifts or nuances that emerge as the work develops. But overall, I have a strong sense of where things are going as I work through them.

Still, it’s always about discovering something new, whether in the work itself or in the process of creation.