Meet the Artist // Emal Dubsk

Can you give us an introduction about yourself and your artistic background?

Hi, I’m Emal Dubsk. I’m from Switzerland and have lived in Lausanne my entire life so far. My mom is Romanian, so I feel connected to both cultures. Dubsk is my artistic name; it’s actually a mix of my parents’ family names. I studied photography for four years, during which I also explored cinema and design. We had workshops with photographers from around the world. It’s been almost two years since I finished my studies, and now I work as an independent photographer. I mostly focus on stage photography for concerts and queer events, like the drag scene, but I also do portrait photography and food photography.

In my free time, I paint and draw. It’s funny because I’ve been doing this much longer than photography. For the past three years, I’ve felt more freedom in my artistic practice, especially with painting and drawing, because I no longer rely on models. I can have a reference, but I now know exactly what I want to paint, including the colors and the fluidity of my pieces.

The main themes in my art, both in photography and other practices, are intimacy, queerness, feminism, sex work, and erotica. I’m deeply passionate about these topics and actively advocate for them in my daily life. One of my ultimate goals is to continue documenting these subjects and give more visibility to minorities.

Can you tell us more about your artistic process?

I really enjoy spending time with people in general—hearing their stories, learning about their backgrounds, just chilling and observing. I focus on the details that make people unique: the way they walk, their style, their behaviors. These little things are where the freedom in my practice lies. I always aim to create an intimate bond with the model during a shoot, sharing a moment together. I love focusing on the details and paying attention to how people present themselves in their lives. I’m particularly drawn to capturing vulnerability, because in those moments, I find true beauty. Sometimes it’s so fleeting, just a few seconds where you catch that perfect moment.

Consent is absolutely essential in my practice. I always make sure the person feels comfortable in front of the camera. Occasionally, I have to photograph very intimate moments, including nudity or erotic poses, and I make sure everyone involved feels good and respected. Clear communication before every shoot—no matter the subject—is key. We discuss boundaries to ensure everything goes as smoothly and comfortably as possible.

Can you tell us about the project you’re working on at GlogauAIR?

I’ve been working on a photo and text documentary titled “Safe Place” for the past 10 months. This project focuses on non-cisgender individuals, including gender identities outside the binary norm (trans femmes, trans masc, non-binary, intersex, genderfluid, agender, genderfuck, etc.). Through portraits and interviews, the project seeks to highlight the diverse experiences of these often marginalized identities. The title refers to the places chosen by the participants—symbols of safety and acceptance where people can express themselves freely.

I came out to myself as a transmasc non-binary person more than two years ago, and I came out to my community and friends over a year ago. In the beginning, I felt overwhelmed and lonely. Even though there’s more representation of non-cisgender people in the art world and society in general, I still felt isolated. I wanted to show the diversity of the gender spectrum and give a voice to all identities, not just trans people, while helping to make these identities more visible.

It’s interesting to approach this project with an “inner eye” because, being part of this community, I feel that my own experience can help connect me more with others. We often find similarities in our pasts and lives. It’s important for me to highlight the different places where people can feel safe and be themselves. Sometimes, I see striking similarities in the spaces people choose for safety—it’s fascinating to witness how these choices are tied to their sense of trust and vulnerability.

Was there a specific reason for choosing residency in Berlin? Is living in Berlin affecting your work?

Yes, the queer community here is much larger, and that was a big draw for me. Where I come from, my city is small, but the community there is strong and becoming more active, with more events, parties, and shows. It’s wonderful to see that. However, I wanted more stimulation and new opportunities, and Berlin offered that. There are so many spaces here, like FLINTA events, which are rare in Switzerland. The artistic scene here is incredible—there are exhibitions and openings all the time, and you have endless opportunities to meet people and explore new artistic processes.

I also decided to move here to gain a different perspective on non-cisgender people for my documentary interviews. Since arriving, I’ve met four amazing people for the project, and their stories have been incredibly inspiring. Berlin’s vastness can make it seem like there are endless opportunities, and I’m grateful for the chance to expand my work here.

Who are some of your favorite artists or artists who have influenced your work?

Tal Madesta, a trans male writer, is one of my favorites. I recently read his latest book, and it resonated deeply with me. He talks about his transition at 27, and I could really relate. Like him, I didn’t have the chance to explore my identity while living at home, and I had to leave my old environment to begin to be myself in a safer space. Now, in a much better place in my life, I’m doing my best to learn and inform myself about the queer community, our rights, struggles, and joys. Reading is a crucial part of that learning process and helps me gain new perspectives.

In terms of photography, I have many references, but a few stand out immediately. Laia Abril, a photographer who works with feminist themes, has a powerful body of work that addresses abortion, femicides, and other sensitive topics with great subtlety.

I also discovered the work of Eric Jasper, who created a photographic book documenting the transition of a trans male individual. The images follow the transition process over time, including the effects of testosterone and top surgery, showing how the person gains confidence. It’s such an incredible project that highlights how transitioning can positively change lives and, in some cases, even save them.

Of course, Nan Goldin is a major influence. Her work capturing raw, difficult moments, especially during the AIDS crisis in New York, is iconic. She photographed the hardest subjects with such naturalism and without any artifice. Spencer Tunick’s landscapes of naked bodies are also inspiring—he challenges conventional notions of nudity in a way that is both beautiful and thought-provoking. Bieke Depoorter’s three-year documentary following a sex worker, and their evolving relationship through letters and trips, is another example of powerful, intimate storytelling that I admire.

I also follow queer/trans activist influencers on Instagram who inspire me and help deepen my understanding of queerness. Their work as humorists, artists, and activists resonates with me because, like them, I’m trying to use my artistic process to represent the community and fight for queer lives.