Dutch photographer Yaël Temminck has always been drawn to artists who create on their own terms. His monochrome portraits reflect that same sensibility, eschewing the polish of a glossy press image in favour of grain, shadow and movement – resulting in photos that are much more intimate and revealing. The backbone of Yaël’s work is his restless curiosity and a desire to document culture as it unfolds and mixes, championing both established voices and emerging talent with equal reverence. Over the past decade, Yaël has built a compelling body of work photographing everyone from icons such as Kim Gordon, Gus Van Sant, John Cooper Clarke, Mark Lanegan, Nan Goldin and Yohji Yamamoto, to a new generation of musicians including julie, Wisp, Crack Cloud, Iceage and Lifeguard. (Follow his work for a who’s-who of rising talent.)

His new debut monograph, Yaël Temminck (Anthology), brings together more than 120 portraits in a deeply personal visual archive, documenting those who have shaped his own perspective while charting a broader cultural landscape. In anticipation of the book’s launch this week at Claire De Rouen, we spoke to Yaël about the making of the book, the trust that underpins his portraits, and why black and white resonates more.

“A good photo for me is about the energy in there, it has to give some emotion, ideally something uneasy, daring, and human.”

Alex James Taylor: Can you take us through the process of creating your new book?
Yaël Temminck: I contacted the Milan-based independent bookstore Veins Books to ask if they would be interested in publishing my book. I’m a big fan of their work and aesthetics. Thankfully, he said yes. Together with his designer, Ten Years Later Studio, they came up with the concept for the book. I chose the photographs and made the first edit. I used to be very specific about how I wanted the designs and layouts of my work to look, but I’ve come to love the surprises that collaborations can bring. On the photography side, I wanted the book to start and end with specific pictures and people. For example, the photograph of Mark Lanegan marks an important moment in my personal view of my photography. I reached out to ask if he would be up for a portrait when he played in my hometown, and he agreed. From that moment on, I started believing in my own work much more. Before that, it felt like I needed a direct goal or a publication in order to photograph someone. The book ends with a photograph of my father’s deathbed, taken directly after he was taken away. Everything in between is relatively free, but there are multiple connections between the different people placed next to, before, or after one another. Nothing is placed randomly. 

AJT: And can you take us through some of your favourite images, moments and subjects in the book?
YT: Often, the photo I didn’t take becomes my favourite image, because it exists as the perfect memory or picture in my head. Every image in the book has its own meaning to me. I choose the people I photograph carefully – perhaps too carefully in the beginning, as I saw them as an extension of my own identity. That still holds true, but I’m more open to other worlds now. In the end, it’s about meeting people whose work or way of being I respect or admire. Photography is beautiful in that sense: it’s a tool that gives you access to all kinds of people and worlds. If I had to name just one image, the portrait of Nan Goldin is one of the most special to me, mostly because of the respect I have for her as a person, for what she has gone through, and, of course, for her work.

AJT: You have such a distinctive style, how did you develop this? I know that Anton Corbijn has been something of a mentor to you – your time with him must have been very influential.
YT: I started working for Anton in 2019. I had been making photographs for years before that – I started when I was thirteen, taking pictures of friends at school or my younger sister. Thankfully, that hard drive is broken. [laughs] When I’m in Anton’s studio or working with him, I don’t put my own work to the front, as I’m there in service of his work, not my own. Anton says about his style that it comes from not knowing how to do it any other way, which I can relate to. I don’t know much about techniques – besides basic camera knowledge – or lighting, etc. I often photograph in the worst-lit spaces because I’m drawn to the energy of the space. I love plain walls, but not studio walls. For me, a good photograph is about the energy within it; it has to create some kind of emotion, ideally something uneasy, daring, and human. Someone once said to me that when she was photographed by me, she felt like she was reflecting me. If you are photographed, you consciously or subconsciously react to the person photographing you – you mirror each other. That’s why I decided to include a couple of my self-portraits in the book as well. I also love limitations and rules when it comes to my work. I created these for myself when I started taking photography more seriously, and I still work within them. Now that the book is out, I feel like there is more space for other kinds of imagery, but for them to exist alongside the current work, as it all remains close to myself and what I resonate with.

AJT: Music plays such a key part in your work, often photographing musicians you respect and admire. What is it that draws you towards photographing musicians, and what is it about the specific musicians you lean towards?
YT: I’m drawn to all kinds of cultural disciplines and people, but music is the most accessible, I would say. Musicians go on tour, so you have more and easier access to them. Plus, I’m almost always listening to music. It’s a powerful form of expression, a world that feels constantly evolving and exciting with every generation. I’m curious to witness that. There is a biblical story about music being the devil’s tool after he was cast out of the ‘holy’ kingdom. In a way, it makes sense that music was given to him to take with him, as it is such a powerful and connecting force. I connect with all kinds of music when there is some raw human energy, emotion, and quality within it. That can vary from a SoundCloud rapper to any band or a classical violinist. For me, it’s about connection, I believe.

AJT: There is such emotion and storytelling in your images, how has your idea of what a photograph should be changed since you first picked up a camera?
YT: When working more within the medium, I paid less attention to certain details in a photograph that I’m much more focused on now. Other things that I used to panic about are more acceptable to me today. I also accept my own failures more. I have a huge love/hate relationship with my own work, and having the right people around you – people who question your work and whose opinions you respect – helps a lot. Also, working daily with a master photographer makes me respect my own way of doing things more. It pushes me to improve the quality of my own work indirectly.

AJT: Who are some of your artistic references?
YT: In photography, I’m always drawn to Peter Hujar’s portraits, but I also have huge respect for the work of Daido Moriyama. Their energies are completely different, but there is something in both of their works that captures what life is about. We are all human, and we all go through the same emotions and states of being, often in different ways. That aspect of art is what speaks to me the most. Everything that moves away from that speaks to me less personally.

AJT: And finally, is there a dream person you haven’t photographed but would love to?
YT: I’m not sure if I believe in a dream person, but there are many people I would love to photograph and haven’t. I might dream about them tonight…