I first was exposed to Austrian photographer and portraitist Daniel Nuderscher’s work over lunch with my friend Anne Glassner, a performance artist with whom I had the privilege of sharing a studio space. Anne’s work is strange and personal and dreamlike; across the table, she showed me photographs of her recent performances. I was struck by the warmth and personality conveyed by the artist behind the camera. I’m very camera-shy, and I hate the stiffness and posturing of posed photography. I’m not sure if I’ve ever had a posed photo I’ve really liked, with the exception of those taken by David Fox and Stacey Wei. The difference there, though, is that I know and trust David and Stacey, and somehow that knowledge and trust translates into the photos they take. I know they are not picking me apart into little pieces, on lists labeled “flaws” and “bad angles,” to hide or expose.
There is a kindness to Daniel’s work that’s readily apparent even by a quick look at his instagram feed. When I was trying to explain to my husband about the project, I used terms like “closeness and intimacy” that skeezed him out; he didn’t understand the project and is on red alert for potential sexual risks. “He’s not a perv - I don’t get pervert vibes!” I protested. When we met that next day in my studio, Daniel said that the word “intimacy,” especially in German (his first language), almost always has a sexual connotation. I guess that’s true, but it’s a sad commentary on our inability in this age to form deep, meaningful relationships without a sexual component. A lot is about sex, but not everything is about sex.
Again, though, we see that in the hyper-sexualized instagram selfies and soft-core pornography people post about themselves. These pruned, cultivated, filtered expressions of a person say very little about who they are, but more about what they feel others may value about them: doll-like skin and facial and body features that show little more than sexual availability. These photos say, “use me sexually - let me show you the things I have you may want,” not “get to know me as a whole person and share yourself with me.”
In Daniel’s portrait project, he meets up in their space with people he doesn’t know, sits down and spends time with them. There are some subjects who choose to pose nude. These nudes, however, bear nothing of the sexual objectification and the generic sex-doll feel. They embody what I have loved about nude portraiture from the beginning: the beauty of the real person, comfortable in their space, nude as metaphor for authenticity.
When Daniel came by the space, I wasn’t really sure what to expect. What I found was someone who fit well with the expression of his art I’d briefly looked at, someone very human who was interested in finding the humanity in others. We dove right in, talking about views of the world, God and humanity in a very naked way, though I’d chosen to keep my non-metaphorical clothes on. It was a beautiful experience, getting to know each other in this way. He very unintrusively took a few photos at the end, but by that time, I felt very safe about the person he is, and hoped we’d remain friends.
Because we had become friends. This is the beauty of this project he is doing, and the beauty of his artistic gift: to see someone and accept them, to show yourself to them, and to make the world that day smaller, warmer and more personal.
Note: In addition to seeking more participants for this project, Daniel is available for other photographic commissions.