sexperimental

Sexperimental

BY JURIJ TRESKOW

Sexperimental is more than a photography book—it’s an experiment, a creative process, and a bold statement. I wanted something real, something physical—so I turned to the most personal form of storytelling: a book where every copy is unique, handcrafted, and shaped by the organic chaos of creation.

It all started in hotel rooms. These in-between spaces, always temporary, took on a life of their own—becoming makeshift studios, cinematic backdrops, and playgrounds for improvisation. I wanted the book to capture that energy, so I began weaving in hotel stationery, scribbled notes, and hidden surprises between the pages.

There’s no set way to experience Sexperimental—it’s meant to be explored, interpreted, even played with. I want to engage all senses, making the experience immersive, tantalizing, and alive. The texture of the pages, the scent of the paper, the weight of each unique element—all of it is meant to draw you in, letting you uncover every page as if it were a scene unfolding before your eyes, an intimate moment frozen in time.

Each reader, each owner, becomes part of the process, curating their own version of the story. Like every moment behind the camera, no two copies are ever the same.

interview #1

Between them lay Sexperimental—a book that refused to be just one thing. A puzzle, a game, a fleeting moment captured yet always shifting.

“So,” she finally asked, tilting her head slightly, “where does it begin for you? The moment of creation—does it come as a whisper, or does it demand to be heard?”

Muse: So, this book... sexperimental. I love the playfulness of the title, but what exactly are you trying to achieve with this project? It's certainly not your typical photography book.
Photographer: Over the past few years, I found myself with a growing collection of photographs and nowhere to really show them. I stopped working with magazines, my last big exhibition—a whole show—was canceled two weeks before its launch due to COVID back in 2021. There were a few smaller exhibitions in Milan and Paris, but overall, it wasn't fulfilling. And then social media... Instagram and the others made it nearly impossible to share my recent work. Their algorithms are insane!

It was a blessing in disguise, really, but painful at first. You don't get the feedback you're used to, and there's a real danger of becoming a photographer who just feeds the Instagram beast, losing themselves in likes and comments. It was like this insidious shift was happening where I became dependent on those faceless likes and comments, the number of views... as if I was morphing into a photographer who just tries to satisfy the algorithms and invisible subscribers. It took a while to break free from that and get back to thinking in terms of projects again.

So with this book, I really wanted to shake things up. Do something different, something real, something that revealed the messy, chaotic nature of creation. And I thought, what better way than to make each copy totally unique? A tangible piece of the whole process.

Muse: That's what intrigued me the most. You're literally crafting each copy by hand?
Photographer: Yeah, it's totally hands-on. I mean, I'm right there in the process – printing the images, picking the paper, figuring out the layout… It's almost like this performance. This back-and-forth between me and the work itself. And because of that, every single book ends up different. Each one's its own unique variation, a total one-of-a-kind thing.

Muse: Fascinating! But with print supposedly 'dead,' why even bother with a physical book?
Photographer: Print in magazines, maybe. I can't recall the last time I bought one. I flip through the pages in seconds, nothing holds my attention. But photography books? Those I collect. It's a way to appreciate the photographer's work, a sign of respect. And it's a source of inspiration, a way to recharge, to find new perspectives, reimagine what's been said, and create something new—something filtered through my own experience.

Muse: I see. Why not find a publisher, then? Why handcraft each copy?
Photographer: It's difficult for me at this stage. Perhaps I'm limiting myself by not reaching out to publishers. But my process is very fluid, intricate. I don't have a fixed outcome in mind. It's not necessarily easier this way, but it's my path, and it yields results. Sometimes it's hard to explain, even to myself, what it is and how it works. I simply keep going and maintain the momentum. Sometimes I feel stuck, but that's part of the process, a necessary part, even if it's agonizing.

Muse: Okay, I get it. But wouldn't working with professionals elevate your work? Perhaps together you could create something even greater?
Photographer: Most likely. It depends on my readiness and confidence, and maybe I'll get there. For instance, the exhibitions I organize, the photography courses I teach, the books I publish, even my website – I've always done everything myself. None of this fit into any existing format, and I was interested in finding original ideas that inspired me, ideas that I could learn from and grow. It's essential for me to return to myself, to find new solutions from within, incorporating external influences but filtering them through my own lens to create my original style.
Plus, with this book, I can express my creative search for form and content, which I try to illustrate through the bookmaking process itself.

Muse: It's interesting how you've divided the project into two volumes. What's the story behind that?
Photographer: I used to be on the road all the time, living out of hotels. And at some point, I started snapping pictures in those rooms, just playing around. But something interesting happened – the photos had this cool, cinematic vibe. I felt different shooting there, and the models did too. It was like this artistic, playful energy just took over.
Suddenly, hotels weren't just for crashing at the end of the day, they became my own personal studios!
But it wasn't just about the vibe. Each hotel room was totally unique. Way different than shooting in a studio or out on the street. It was a fresh canvas every time, something new for me and the models to work with. Plus, there's something about hotels that feels like a movie set, right? It just brings out a whole different range of emotions and poses.
So, all that hotel time really shaped my Volume One project. It's like the next chapter after "Fatal Issue #1," but it digs deeper into that weird, kinda cool feeling of hotel rooms. They're so temporary, nobody really owns them, but you can still sense all these different lives that have passed through. It's pretty fascinating, actually.

Muse: I've noticed you incorporate a lot of hotel stationery in the book's layouts – envelopes, notepads, letterheads. Why is that?
Photographer: I've always instinctively collected those things. I'm drawn to the aesthetic; it's a great source of inspiration, a catalyst for ideas. But I didn't really know how I'd use them until I started working on this book. I felt like simply presenting the photographs wouldn't be enough. I wanted to give more, to expand on the experience of being in those hotel rooms, of creating the images there. So I started incorporating the notepads to jot down thoughts, imagined dialogues between the photographer and the muse... And using the envelopes to hide photographs or other little surprises, creating a sense of anticipation and discovery. It all works together to draw the viewer into the scenes, into the world of the photographs.

Muse: And Volume Two? It feels very different, almost like a rebirth.
Photographer: Yes, it was. I moved back to Paris and found this amazing apartment—a total dream place—but it had these stark white walls everywhere. It was such a different vibe from the hotels, and it wasn't a studio either, so something in-between. Hotels have that built-in drama, that transient feeling, with all those echoes of other people. Studios are more like factories, bigger and more spacious, with all the equipment you could imagine.
But here, in this apartment, it was all about finding inspiration in the emptiness. Like working with a pure, blank canvas. It pushed me to experiment again. I had to find totally new ways of seeing, new angles, new ways to play with light and shadow. It was a real challenge to keep things fresh, to avoid repeating myself, to keep inventing new ways of expressing things.
Each time, I had to build the composition from scratch, using fabrics, backdrops, lights, chairs, clothes—whatever was at hand. Sometimes it felt almost painful, this agonizing search for new solutions. But then, suddenly, there'd be a breakthrough, and something unexpected would unfold. An emotion would emerge, a tension in the composition, a sense of dynamism.

Muse: I have to admit, the AI-generated dialogues between us are a bit...surreal. What inspired that?
Photographer: (Laughs) Yeah, it might seem a little out there, but it's true! Those conversations, even the ones we just cook up in our heads, they feed the whole creative process so much. It felt totally right to bring them into the work somehow.
Plus, it kind of links back to those immersive shows I did back in 2019-2021. I was already messing around with AI back then, more the idea of it. The tech we have now just didn't exist. So it's cool to see how things have evolved.
This time around, AI let me dive into all those emotional undercurrents of creation in a way I couldn't before. That whole push and pull between the artist and the muse, the doubts, the flashes of inspiration... It's not about getting some literal truth, but more about capturing the feel of that relationship, that energy that flows back and forth. It definitely adds a whole other layer to the work, don't you think?

Muse: It's definitely a unique touch. So, what do you hope people will take away from sexperimental?
Photographer: I don't have many expectations about what those who own this book will feel or experience. I simply give them myself, open myself to them by sharing my creative process and how I tell stories through my photographs. But how they interpret it, what they see in it – that's entirely up to them. I'm interested in making the kind of book that I, as a photography enthusiast, would want to own.

Perhaps they'll become curators of the book itself. Since each copy is unique, they'll be able to share and showcase the contents of their specific version. It's not about creating their own book, but about how they present and interpret the one they have. It would be interesting to see if they feel compelled to compare their copy with others from the series. I'm curious to see how it all unfolds—that's part of the appeal.

Ultimately, I want to spark curiosity and shake things up a bit through original layout choices and the selection of printing paper. To preserve those elements of playfulness in the creation, and then in how the book unfolds for each person.

interview #2

“What do you see when you look at it now?” the muse asked, tracing the edge of the page.

The photographer paused. “A reflection of where I was when I made it. But also something beyond me—something still shifting, waiting for its next transformation.

Muse: When you first started Sexperimental, did you imagine it would shape-shift the way it has? Has it revealed any hidden layers—something unexpected that made you see your own work differently?
Photographer: Yes, absolutely. My first variation took me about 8-10 weeks to complete. Looking back at that first one, I even feel a little embarrassed. It was a bold and ambitious step into the unknown—everything was new. Now, as I work on the fourth version, the process feels completely different. I already have a foundation, a structure to build upon—the skeleton of the book, so to speak. But each time, I reinvent the content, pushing myself to compete with my own creativity. This is exactly what I wanted—the thrill of overcoming challenges and exploring the narrative, constantly questioning how I can bring form and content to life in new ways.

Muse: You’ve built a foundation, a skeleton—but what about the flesh and blood? Each version of Sexperimentalbreathes differently. Do you ever feel like the book takes on a life of its own, leading you somewhere unexpected? Or is it always you in control, shaping its destiny?
Photographer: It’s a game, a thrill, a mix of chance and luck—stumbling upon a fresh new solution. It’s not about being better or worse than the previous versions; it's simply different. At the start, I don’t have a final vision of how the next version will turn out. But step by step, I watch it take shape, how everything gradually emerges. Suddenly, the threads weave into new patterns, new solutions, and something crystallizes—something that, in turn, reshapes my perception of both the current and previous versions. Sometimes, I even allow myself to make small changes to earlier copies. That’s why I plan to complete the entire edition before slowly letting it go.

Muse: You speak of threads weaving into new patterns, a dance between chance and intention. But have you ever felt the urge to break your own rules entirely—tear it apart, rebuild it from the ashes? Or is reinvention always more subtle, more of a whisper than an explosion?
Photographer: I think I’ll get there—the moment when I decide to make one version completely different, to rethink it, turn it inside out, or flip it upside down. A rebellious version. For now, I’m solidifying my approach, developing a system, refining the decisions within this dynamic process. That’s the beauty of it—each new version holds the potential for surprise. Curiosity is what drives me forward, the desire to see how the next iteration of the book will reveal itself.

Muse: A rebellious version—now that’s intriguing. If you were to create a version that completely defied your own rules, what would it look like? Would it be louder, wilder? Or would rebellion, in this case, mean stripping everything down to its barest essence?
Photographer: I think I’d go toward something more fierce, wild—loud and provocative. A version that, in its scream, could deafen to the point of piercing silence. That’s why I love inviting people into my studio, showing them what already exists, observing their reactions—how they perceive what they see, what they feel, and how they interact with the work.

Muse: You mention watching how others react, how they interact with the work. Have their responses ever surprised you—perhaps revealing something about the book (or even yourself) that you hadn’t noticed before?
Photographer: It’s important to separate myself from the book when I show it—like a parent watching their child grow more independent.
The reactions vary, but they’re always vivid, and they inspire me to keep experimenting. I see how eyes light up, how inspiration sparks, how people explore and interpret the book in their own way. There’s this moment of surprise, that flicker of wonder when each new page promises something unexpected. I love witnessing how the book captures their attention, drawing them in, engaging all their senses in the experience.

Muse: If the book is like a child growing independent, do you ever feel a sense of loss when you finally let a copy go? Or is it more of a thrill—knowing it’s out in the world, continuing its story without you?
Photographer: I’m still far from that moment since I plan to complete all the books before they become available. This will take a long time, and when the time comes, I’ll probably have mixed feelings. A kind of sadness, but not longing—more like a farewell, paired with a sense of liberation, making space for something new. That’s why I want to make the books independent, to leave them room for growth and transformation. They will never be frozen in one form; they will continue to evolve, kinetically alive, always unfolding.

Muse: You speak of your books as something alive, always changing. Do you see them as artworks in constant motion, or do they eventually reach a moment of stillness—like a photograph, capturing a fleeting instant before moving on?
Photographer: I imagine much will depend on who the book’s future owners will be. Its very nature is fluid and alive, always inclined toward further movement. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I don’t exclude the possibility that, for some, a static perception of the book will be enough.
Perhaps someone will become its curator, presenting it to their guests and adding their own interpretation to its contents. Maybe someone will dare to change the layout, since the photographs and materials aren’t fixed in place. There’s always that playful element, the temptation to take a risk—if someone is bold enough.
I’ve also noticed that when people engage with the book, questions arise—Can I open this envelope? Can I see what’s inside? Am I allowed to unpack the photographs? It’s almost like a game of flirtation, with hints and shadows of what is allowed and what still remains untouchable, leaving a trail of possible interpretations.

Muse: A book that flirts with its reader—that’s a delicious thought. Do you think seduction plays a role in your work? Not just in the imagery, but in the experience of engaging with the book itself?
Photographer: Yes, that’s one of the most important goals—to seduce the viewer not just into lingering, standing still as a witness to beauty, but to ignite a spark of inspiration within them. A spark that might take shape as their own step, their own impulse to interpret what they see and what it stirs inside them. To seduce them into a dance of shadows and ideas.

Muse: A dance of shadows and ideas—there’s something intoxicating about that. But every seduction has its limits, a line between revealing and withholding. How do you decide what to expose and what to leave in mystery?
Photographer: That’s exactly why the concept of each version being different gives me this unique opportunity for original layouts. The same series of photographs can appear restrained in one book and wild in another. My own state of mind shifts over time as I create each version, and that inevitably reflects in the final result.

Muse: If your mood and emotions imprint themselves onto each version, do you see these books as self-portraits in a way? Or are they something beyond you, something that takes on its own soul once it leaves your hands?
Photographer: Both. I see that the way I create these books—pouring my soul into them, revealing my essence—makes them undeniably autobiographical and deeply personal. Yet at the same time, I want them to remain fluid, to keep playing—sometimes hiding, sometimes provoking with a touch of aggression or defiance.
Looking at the first versions, I already see them as siblings to one another, each carrying a spark of mischief. And children, after all, are the most wonderful magicians and sorcerers.