10 Questions with Boris Osipau
Boris is a self-taught photographer originally from Minsk, Belarus, now based in Philadelphia. His journey into photography began unexpectedly while modeling for a small studio in Berlin, where he became captivated by the process of developing silver gelatin prints. This fascination inspired him to purchase his first camera, sparking an 8-year journey of traveling the world and capturing the people, places, and moments that shaped his life. Boris is passionate about storytelling, using each image as an opportunity to convey emotion and preserve meaningful moments in time.
Throughout his career, Boris has honed his skills in various roles, including serving as a gaffer and production assistant for one of Philadelphia’s leading photography studios. These experiences allowed him to contribute to high-profile shoots, such as a Harper’s Bazaar cover and a Vogue feature, further enhancing his technical expertise and understanding of successful productions.
Today, Boris combines his technical knowledge and creative vision to produce compelling images that resonate emotionally. Whether working on a portrait session, a fashion editorial, or personal branding photography, he focuses on understanding what matters most to his clients, creating images that reflect their stories and provide lasting memories.
Fierce | Project Description
This photography series, Fierce, examines the paradox of cuteness aggression, a psychological phenomenon where overwhelming feelings of adoration for something irresistibly cute provoke an equally intense, almost aggressive response. Through Boris's lens, the series investigates the emotional tension between tenderness and primal instinct, offering a visual narrative that explores the complexity of human reactions to beauty and innocence.
The series is a photographic study of candid expressions to stimuli in three distinct environments, each designed to evoke contrasting emotions and reactions. In the first, Boris encouraged the models to touch each other's clothing and faces, fostering moments of connection and gentle exploration. In the second, the models were urged to cover each other in paint, creating vibrant, playful interactions filled with energy and spontaneity. In the third, the models engaged with their own reflections and played with their hair and clothing in the wind, producing introspective and self-expressive movements.
By juxtaposing moments of vulnerability and intensity, the series captures the interplay of love and aggression in carefully crafted scenarios. Each photograph reveals the emotional duality inherent in these interactions, inviting viewers to reflect on their visceral responses to cuteness and the instinctual impulses such reactions unveil.
At its core, Fierce serves as both a psychological exploration and a reflection on instinctual behavior. It examines how the urge to nurture often coexists with a primal desire to grasp, hold, or even dominate what we find endearing. These opposing forces, though seemingly contradictory, underscore the depth of emotional connections and the complex nature of human affection.
By capturing this duality, Fierce provokes curiosity and introspection, encouraging viewers to embrace the complexity of their own emotional landscapes. It challenges them to consider how they express affection and navigate the boundaries of instinct, sparking meaningful conversations about the fragility and power of human connection.
INTERVIEW
Your journey into photography began while modeling in Berlin. How did this experience shape your initial perspective on photography, and what inspired you to pursue it professionally?
My journey into photography began in Berlin, where I worked as a lingerie model. Being in front of the camera gave me a unique perspective, but it was film photography that truly captivated me. The hands-on process—loading film, hearing the shutter click, and watching silver gelatin prints emerge from the developer—felt magical, like a new reality coming to life. I committed to shooting exclusively on film for several years to immerse myself in the craft and understand light, composition, and storytelling.
I didn't start my professional career until I was 30, after leaving my day job as a professional climber. Initially, I feared going pro would take away the therapeutic aspect of photography. To stay connected to my passion, I even picked up modeling again. But ultimately, I realized that living your own dream is always better than living someone else's.
That foundation in film, along with the risks I took following my passion, shaped me into the photographer I am today.Every image I try to create reminds me of why I fell in love with photography in the first place.
As a self-taught photographer, what resources or experiences were most valuable in developing your skills and artistic voice?
As a self-taught photographer, the most valuable resources in developing my skills and artistic voice were hands-on experience and a deep commitment to the process. I started by shooting exclusively on film, which taught me the fundamentals of light, composition, and patience. Film is a harsh teacher—every mistake costs time and money, and I ruined countless rolls from errors like opening the back cover or messing up the development. But these mistakes were crucial, forcing me to slow down, think critically, and truly learn from every frame.
I also immersed myself in books by masters like Ansel Adams and Bruce Barnbaum, with the 17 Volume Life Library of Photography being one of my most treasured resources, even though it threatens to rip my bookshelf out of the wall. I keep up with photographers who inspire me, such as Ryan McGinley, Steven Meisel, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Helmut Newton; and whenever possible, apprenticed under masters I respected to deepen my craft.
Modeling also shaped my approach, teaching me the importance of storytelling, collaboration, and how light and angles transform an image. A series of self-portraits was a crucial learning experience, helping me master light, angles, and composition through trial and error.
Above all, my artistic voice has evolved by pursuing what inspires me, embracing mistakes, and remembering that photography is about connection and storytelling, not just technical skills. While it may not always be the most profitable approach, prioritizing connection with my clients has always been more important than higher margins.
From your early fascination with silver gelatin prints to your current projects, how has your technical approach to photography evolved over time?
After doing freelance work, I began working with local and well-renowned fashion photographer Vikrant from Philadelphia and as an associate photographer for Carter Wear, a New York-based lingerie brand. This shift allowed me to refine my technical skills and gain invaluable experience in product and fashion photography, learning to adapt my style to client needs while maintaining creativity.
As I worked with real clients, my approach became more polished, with a stronger focus on lighting, composition, and post-production that meets commercial standards. Photography is now my business, and I'm learning to balance artistry with efficiency. My style has evolved from its raw, experimental beginnings to something more refined, ensuring that each image aligns with industry standards while staying true to my artistic vision. That said, I always strive to maintain a raw, natural feel in my work. I want it to feel like an intimate observation shared through someone's eye, not like something you'd see passed around in a screenshot or clipping of a magazine page.
Having worked as a gaffer and production assistant on high-profile shoots, how do these experiences influence your own creative productions and workflow?
It hasn't influenced me as much as I expected it to! Personally, I haven't worked with large commercial or editorial budgets (nor have I actively sought those opportunities). I prefer to keep things simple. My favorite way to work is by exploring a location that inspires my clients to be themselves—whether it's the streets, an avenue, a hotel room, or a rooftop. With photography, I've found that large crews can sometimes get in the way of what's most important: building a personal connection with the client and meeting their needs, as well as capturing meaningful memories in the process.
Your work often focuses on storytelling and preserving meaningful moments. Are there recurring themes or stories in your work that hold particular personal significance?
I explore a variety of themes in my work, all of which are very personal to me. From studies of the intimate spaces people construct for the camera, to an exploration of humanity and artificiality through photographs of mannequins that look human, each theme is deeply significant. However, there is one overarching concept that I find personally compelling.
A good friend of mine used to say, "When you're working with Boris, just stand still, don't move, don't smile, and look straight at the camera." While I love the discipline of capturing the chaotic, unfiltered extravagance of life unfolding around me, my favorite moments are when life pauses just for me for a fraction of a second, looks me in the eye through the lens, and quietly says, "Hi."
Your series Fierce explores the paradox of cuteness aggression. How did you approach conceptualizing and designing the scenarios to evoke such nuanced emotional responses?
The concept for Fierce actually evolved from constant quarrels with my very attractive ex-partner at the time. Our relationship was almost perfect, magazine-like. I realized that the main reason we were always picking on each other wasbecause we found each other incredibly cute. This sparked the idea for a photographic experiment.
With the support of Delaware Valley Art Models, a community of art models in Philly, the Philadelphia Sketch Club (America's oldest club for artists), and independent artists and models Diane Hurst and CMPT Music, we collaborated to create three scenarios that present the concept of Fierce.
The first scenario explores physical touch. I instructed the models to touch each other's faces and invade each other's personal space. The second scenario focuses on the sensation of water. I mixed edible paints and asked the models to interact using brushes and their hands. The third scenario involves the feeling of air. With the help of a friend who supervises a highrise, we gained access to a rooftop patio on a windy, sunny day. I placed my camera on the ground with the LCD display facing the models and had them interact with their own reflections and the wind while I remotely triggered the shutter from a few feet away.
When creating images, how do you balance spontaneity with the deliberate crafting of visual narratives?
It helps to create a space where people feel stimulated, then step back and observe. Not unlike jazz music, my sets are usually a chaotic mix of actions and reactions to the environments, as well as the people and objects within them—whether I've found or created them. I'm always nearby, monitoring everything.
The emotional duality in Fierce, tenderness versus primal instinct, is compelling. What drew you to this psychological phenomenon, and what do you hope viewers take away from it?
As I mentioned in the previous question, the concept of Fierce arose from my curiosity about why my ex-partner and I were constantly quarreling despite having a stable, healthy relationship. I want viewers to recognize that they possess powerful subconscious primal instincts beyond their control and that this is perfectly natural. Like much of my work, Fierce is about self-observation and self-acceptance.
What new directions or themes are you eager to explore in your photography, and how do you see your style evolving in the coming years?
I'd like my work to take a more intimate direction, where I photograph the human body in its most natural form—the nude. I believe that when we undress in front of others, we reveal a part of our soul, whether we try to conceal it or not, with the overwhelming array of products marketed to us by the beauty industry. I want to look beyond all that and explore who we truly are: "alone, naked, and afraid."
I was also inspired by Quetzal Maucci, a photographer and educator from London, and her open call on her website titled Queer Family Archive. She is curating a multimedia archive to create a collaborative space where queer family structures can be seen, heard, and represented. I'd like to explore what a healthy queer family looks like through photography, particularly within the local Philadelphia community. Given the current political climate in the U.S., I believe this study holds particular significance.
I feel confident and secure in my style of photography—raw, unadulterated reality with a touch of pizzazz. I don't see that changing anytime soon, although you never know who I might meet or how they could turn my world upside down.
Are there any specific projects or collaborations you're working on or dreaming of that you'd like to share?
In addition to collaborating with Quetzal, I'd love to work with my all-time favorite photographers and inspirations, Ryan McGinley and Steven Meisel, in any capacity—even if it means moving C-stands. I've heard Ryan's studio is hiring interns this summer, so as soon as the first snowdrops appear on the forest floor, I'll be sending out proposals.
Artist’s Talk
Al-Tiba9 Interviews is a promotional platform for artists to articulate their vision and engage them with our diverse readership through a published art dialogue. The artists are interviewed by Mohamed Benhadj, the founder & curator of Al-Tiba9, to highlight their artistic careers and introduce them to the international contemporary art scene across our vast network of museums, galleries, art professionals, art dealers, collectors, and art lovers across the globe.