I decide not to snooze my 4:45 am alarm so I don’t miss the train to Stockholm and I can finally visit Ekaterina in her studio in Bagis, a collective in a basement with artist studios and an elevator turned into the exhibition space Fast Hiss.
We talk about working with symbolism, materials that hold contradictions and expensive pets. What really inspires me is that rather than building projects, she makes singular pieces that live on their own, often reworked and reframed. Her work is ambiguous, handled with ritual-like care and attention to detail. It’s playful and serious at once, just like her collection of butts.

Your latest contribution to the exhibition Himlakroppar at SKF/Konstnärshuset in Stockholm last year was great. What inspired it?
I’m very curious about how visitors often ask “Who’s in this photo?” or “Where was it taken?” when it comes to photography. I value the symbolic possibilities of an image, facts steal attention from the symbolics of images. Take the piece Star of the Sea, for example. The title comes from one of an ancient title for Mary, the mother of Jesus, but the photograph is a street portrait of a teenage boy, whose look combines masculine and feminine energy balanced with each other to some holy level. The title is a way to play with symbols and challenge the viewer rather than representing a person or a place.

framed and not framed photography,
110 x 80 cm and 23 x 29 cm

analogue C-print, 23 x 29 cm
And you showed it in a plastic sleeve taped to the wall.
Initially I wanted to frame it like an icon, emphasizing its symbolic weight. Curators Ashik Zaman and Alida Ivanov, however, suggested the plastic sleeve. At first I resisted, it felt disrespectful to the subject and the intent. But I then realized the unframed presentation actually elevated it subtly, setting it apart from the other framed works. You know, photographers are all about framing in different ways 🙂
So symbolism plays a big role in your practice.
Yes, definitely. My wish is to code photography with the power of being read as a symbol to promote further discussion. The framing of the work is part of the symbolism.

50 x 70 cm, 2024
C-print, Brazilian cherry wood, under engraved museum glass

22 x 34 cm, 2024
C-print, Brazilian cherry wood, under engraved museum glass, Fresnel lens
Could you share an example where symbolism and materiality come together in your work?
In Mona Lisa’s eyelashes, I engraved a phoenix onto glass and hid a picture of a dragon. Inspiration came from a myth about the dragon and the phoenix’s sex-fight which resulted in the creation of the universe. The piece designed it to be viewed from multiple perspectives; potentially one could rotate the piece and look at it horizontally. I learned this way of working with the work from a good painter, Hanna Andersson 🙂
I love how you make your own frames and customize every single detail of them.
I was reading The Disappearance of Rituals by Byung-Chul Han’s, while working on the show. A book that emphasizes the importance of small rituals and of handling things with care. Now I treat dragon and phoenix as my totem animals.
What I also enjoyed in the show Himlakroppar was that you presented many single images, whereas photography today is often shown in sequences.
In the last few years, I’ve shifted from producing narrative-driven series to creating individual, self-contained pieces. This approach feels more intimate. I live with these works, revise them, even reuse some images in a new framing.
I see that. How you arrange together images, objects, and graphics elements is very inspiring. Together, they create a whole new narrative within the single frame.
That’s really nice to hear 🙂

16 x 36cm, 2023
UV print on rubber, steel, silver, burned plastic and stolen earring

We both studied at Valand. They’re still asking for “projects” when you apply, aren’t they? It’s so limiting.
That’s very common for schools. It’s such a relief to break free from the project-based mindset. Before, I felt pressured to produce constantly, but now I focus on fewer pieces and give each one the attention it deserves.
Could you walk me through your process when creating a piece?
This is a tough one! It usually starts with a photograph. Each piece is different, though, sometimes I start with a clear vision of the final shape, and other times I let the materials and context guide me.
You often include metal, rubber, aluminium, and other materials in your piece that create conversations with the photographs. What draws you to them?
I love materials with contradictions. Aluminum, for example, is incredibly light yet toxic to work with. It represents both progress and destruction. Rubber, made from oil, has a similar duality, it’s versatile and powerful but also a symbol of environmental harm. I like my exhibitions to feel like group shows, even though it’s all my work. Each piece is distinct, using different materials and themes, yet together they create a dialogue. It’s playful, experimental, and intentional.

110 x 80 cm
Aluminum frame, anti-reflex glass with UV70 protection UV print and glue pattern, aluminum passepartou, inkjet pigment print

C-print, 2022
On a lighter note, I heard you’re collecting pictures of bats. What’s the story there?
Bats? You mean BUTTS.
Oh!
Haha yes, I started collecting photos of butts that I found, almost as a ritual. Once I have many, I want to combine them with portraits of expensive pets.
Like, snakes?
No! More like cats and dogs.
Oh, like fancy pets.
Yeah, because as a symbol they represent humans’ desire for care.
Finally, what’s next for you?
I have started to write some shitty poems, which I still don’t know how to use.
Shitty in what way?
They are just not nice. Here, look at this one.
She takes out her phone, opens Notes, and lets me read one. It’s made up of very short sentences and is quite dark and confusing. Ambiguous.
The short lines almost sound like they could be titles of your photographs.
Yeah exactly! I actually started these poems by playing with a bunch of titles I had laying around and trying to combine them.
I like them because I’m not sure if I understand the tone.
I think they are playful. And painful.
What a wonderful note to end on.

16 x 32 cm, 2022
Stikers, glass, glue, knives
Ekaterina Lukoshkova (born 1988, USSR, Leningrad) is a Stockholm-based visual artist who works with photography, writing, and video. Her work touches on themes of progress, identity, ritual beliefs, and sexuality. She studied photography at Valand Academy and sculpture at Dômen Konstskola. Her work has been shown at Konstnärshuset, (Stockholm), Roda Sten Konsthall (Gothenburg), The Fifth Biennial of Young Art (Moscow), and Centrum För Fotografi (Stockholm).
Interview by Stefano Conti
Images by Ekaterina Lukoshkova
Portrait by Sofie Kjørum Austlid