In Focus: Taking Direction from Nature with Laura Zalenga

What inspires your photography?

Most of the time, it’s places and scenes I come across during my hikes, explorations of nature in daily life and while travelling: a rock formation, a tide pool or a plant with leaves that sparks an idea. And very often, it’s trees. I sometimes joke about one day designing a photo-book called “Me in Trees”, as I have so many self-portraits with, in, on and around trees.

Two key aims that shape my photography are not to use nature as a backdrop, but rather, as a second body I collaborate with, and to see my body not as an identity, but as an instrument of expression.

But besides landscapes, I also deeply enjoy being inspired by potentially anything around me: kiwi seeds of a smoothie, patterns on fallen leaves, kitchen utensils, shadows of all kinds…

How has photography changed the way you see the world?

I believe it turned me into what I call “a human scanner”. Anything that comes into my view gets scanned for its potential to inspire a concept. It might sound exhausting, but I am nothing but thankful for it, as it sprinkles life with joy and optimism. It allows me to find potential in things I would previously have overlooked, or seen as ordinary or broken.

In hindsight, it might also be connected to me having aphantasia (the inability to visualise mental images), which led to this hyperfocus on creating with what I see right in front of me. Since I can’t visually plan as most people do, I often look for projects with the creative freedom to work this way, or I build abstract, verbal-based concepts as guidelines.

How do you stay creatively curious or avoid repetition in your work?

I actively challenge myself regularly. For example, I host monthly challenges for a group of photographers based on randomly selected themes that guarantee that we have to think beyond our comfort zone. Creating based on a topic that you wouldn’t have chosen yourself and seeing the results of different minds is very inspiring and fosters constant development.

While most people starting with photography get told to hone in on a unique style and find their niche, I believe it’s underrated to remind people later on to leave the beaten path now and then, because routine can make the process of creating a bit too automated.

What are your must-have tools or gear?

As the vast majority of my work is self-portraits, it is a big plus to have a tripod with me. Other than that, I always search for tools that offer the best combination of lightweight but high-class at the same time. I bring as little as possible, and only as much as necessary to be as quick and as flexible as possible.

Nowadays, I love using my phone as a remote control and second screen for my camera. It allows me to see what the camera sees and adjust settings or body language without going back and forth to the camera. But I recommend alternating it with a classic remote control. It offers one of the most beautiful aspects of self-portraiture, allowing in-the-moment emotions and thoughts to guide what your body expresses, instead of looking at a screen.

Can you share one of the most memorable shots you've captured?

That’s so hard to choose. Many of my images mean a lot to me, either because the concept is personally important or because the shooting process itself was especially fun or challenging.

Spontaneously, I would pick a series I shot in Moon Valley in Italy. When I first arrived, I felt like I had landed on a different planet. Giant rock formations as far as I could see offered both a playground for the ever-climbing child in me, as well as endless opportunities to create around the theme I keep returning to: a human being humbly connected with nature. Contrasting our vulnerable, temporary state with nature’s longevity, I hope to encourage humans to live with nature, rather than at its expense.

This series also shows why I prefer self-portraiture. The duality of the process is unbeatable. Taking the photos is very fun, creative and fulfilling, but being the human who gets to lie against the stone, feel the cold, the warmth, the texture without anyone watching or interfering is something I miss whenever I outsource it. Photographing a series like this one means I come home with scratched legs and a big smile, physical reminders of really being with nature.