Franziska Nagelova
Franziska Nagelova learned early on that photography is a way of being in the world. She was born in Germany but grew up in Brno, in the Czech Republic. It was there that, at age 15, she began attending a studio where she could experiment with film, radio, and various artistic forms—such as photography and its analog processes—in a black-and-white darkroom. It was also around that time that she received her first analog camera—and never put it down again. She took it everywhere, even on long exchange trips to Hong Kong or the Philippines. “I love to travel, and I always took that heavy camera with me,” she recalls.
But it was in Vienna that photography ceased to be merely a passion and became a stance. At a festival dedicated to analog photography—Rotlicht, “red light,” like that of darkrooms—she attended a presentation on alternative photography and sustainability. There was an exhibition on the ecological impact of photography, both analog and digital. “I realized: I love photography, but it isn’t perfect.” The question that followed became the focus of her journey: how to continue doing what she loves while reducing her ecological footprint?
This restlessness led her to explore alternative, less toxic processes, such as caffenol—a developer made from coffee, sodium carbonate, and vitamin C—and cyanotype. She discovered the British group Sustainable Darkroom and deepened her experiments during an artist residency in Germany, where she decided to “lose herself” in the techniques that intrigued her. “Experimentation and imperfection are very important in my work. It’s essential to fail a lot and act without overthinking.”
Living in Matosinhos since 2023—“I discovered the sea, I discovered surfing, and I fell in love with this place”—it is the ocean that shapes her artistic practice. The proximity to the sea—and the problems caused by sewage pipes on the beaches—became artistic material. She joined an NGO that collects water samples for bacteriological analysis and decided to respond with images. She collected water from the sewers that flow into the sea and used caffenol to symbolically “heal” that water through the photographic process. She incorporated seaweed onto photographic paper, worked with recycled and expired paper, applying the principles of the 5 Rs. “It’s not perfect, but I try to think: how can I make this dirty subject a little cleaner, at least in the way I approach it?”
Her photography is, therefore, both an ethical and sensory endeavor. Ethical, because she seeks to minimize her environmental impact and choose meaningful collaborations—she prioritizes local, small-scale brands associated with slow fashion and emphasizes the importance of “sisterhood.” Sensory, because she pursues what she calls the “wow”: a physical, intuitive reaction that guides both creation and teaching. “You observe and feel: does this provoke a ‘wow’ inside you? If so, you follow that direction.”
With a degree in Language Education and Translation, she found workshops to be a natural space for sharing. She advocates for non-formal education, in which making mistakes is part of the process.
In Caffenol, each coffee bean produces a different shade; with more vitamin C, unexpected purplish tones emerge. Uncertainty is the raw material: many results aren’t even fixed and eventually fade away over time. She likes that idea: beauty is fleeting, it doesn’t last forever—there’s a natural cycle. “But you can digitize it if you want to preserve the image.”
This awareness of time also permeates his landscapes. He works with long and double exposures, employing an aesthetic reminiscent of lomography, creating images that are at times abstract, in which mountains and water merge. He seeks the softness of light on the leaves, the quiet joy of the present moment. “Ordinary photography lacks the softness and joy of the moment.” By making the landscapes more mysterious, he invites the eye to linger—and, in lingering, to care.
The connection to materials is central. Picking up a leaf from the ground, placing it on the paper, allowing the natural chemicals to react with the developer: each image is born from a physical connection to the place. “It’s something you can’t do with a digital camera.” Still, he doesn’t reject digital; he uses it for faster commercial projects, mindful of the demands of the present. But it is in slow time that he finds meaning—as when he walked the Camino de Santiago with only his analog camera. “You set up the camera, breathe, live in the now. You don’t seek an immediate result; you just enjoy the moment. You only see the result later, when you develop the film. And then you have another ‘wow’ moment. Or not. But at least you had that moment of slowing down.”
Riso printing—an eco-friendly technique known for its grainy texture and layered colors—is also part of her repertoire. In a photo book on permaculture, she documented an Austrian vegetable garden that withstood the August heat: while everything around it was parched, that garden—cultivated for 30 years according to sustainable principles—remained alive. She wanted to show that such a possibility exists.
What is essential to your relationship with photography today? “The same as when I started: sharing values. Vulnerability, sensuality, feminine energy connected to Mother Nature, freedom of expression, sharing positive energy, and exchanging hope.” Photography is both medium and message; it is a tool and an act of care.
Franziska still wants to stay close to the Portuguese coast. She’s planning new workshops, in tune with the rhythm of the seasons, and dreams of returning to South America to photograph landscapes that “cleanse the soul.” What keeps her curious and dedicated is the constant search for that moment when something inside her—and inside the viewer—simply says, “Wow!”
