“My name is Daphne Vermeulen, I am a photographer from Amsterdam and I identify as a queer woman. My work can be described as coarse, black and white and it often has the feminine aesthetic as the subject. I am interested in the question: can a work be independent of the artist? Or does the context of the maker always drive the content? Many of the artists who inspire me in this visual genre are men. But as beautiful as some of their work is, I find it hard not to attribute their often objectified version of the female body to the “male gaze”. I wonder if my inspirations nowadays would be different if more women in history would have been known photographers. On the other side, in work by other women who photograph women, I’m struck by how soft, tender and fragile they often still portray them. My imagery is different.

I like darkness, coarseness, lots of texture. That raises the question whether it can also be attractive when rougher work is made by a woman? Without being immediately put away in a “male” genre, because it might not be what women are expected to make. 

- Sometimes I wonder if there actually even are any expectations for women in photography. (Which might not necessarily be a bad thing.) 

In my work I try to make the female body (v/x) look authentic. For example, I like to see all the irregularities of the skin, and document the body in her own strength. I hope to give the viewer space for a different feeling of intimacy and mysticism without seduction or eroticism being in the foreground. To me, it’s of great importance whether my work is pure. Sincere. I try to make myself vulnerable, reflecting my own passion through the bond and the story I have with the subject shot. 

One could wonder what the difference is between me as a queer woman who photographs primarily women I’m with, and the eroticized “male gaze” I agitate against. Is it just a matter of perspective? Would you recognize my work as made by a woman if you displayed it in a room full of work by men? I do think so. 

I myself also find identification in art, even if the identity of the maker remains unspoken. To give an example, in the work of the Dutch poet Elly de Waard. She lived part of her life with a man, but never expressed out loud that her subjects are women, but when I read her poems it is abundantly clear to me that she must be queer. I immediately identify with the way she writes about the body and intimacy. 

I would also like to bring that about with my work. That women recognize themselves in my work. But more than that. That it gives space for art (and people) to be sexy, dark, vulnerable and strong at the same time. As human beings we are not unambiguous and hopefully my work is not either.”

Gaze Project