ES: You have a very particular world in your photography. I am curious about your influences, your references of how and where this universe comes from?

RM: I think we’re all naturally drawn to certain taste and aesthetic. And since a young age, I’ve been very sensitive to decoration, colours, organising a room. I used to change my bedroom all the time. I would take objects and move my bed from here to there, because to me, it would be like moving out. Like a new story, a new feeling. The things that matter the most to me, in arts or music, they need to move me emotionally and visually. All my senses need to be stimulated. This is why I started at a young age. My mother had taste for antiques and she helped me to build my identity. And social media helped me a lot. Very quickly, I began to copy what I saw. I would just redo the pictures I found on Tumblr that were pretty famous and kind of tasteless. But still, I found it was a way to produce something, to teach myself photography.

From my Tumblr era, I moved towards a new direction quite quickly, that of Eastern European New Wave film. Daisies was one of my early awakenings. At the time, I got introduced in the world of photography – Joel Peter Witkin, Roger Ballen, and Irina Ionesco – which remain influential to me. I also learned about stop motion animation, weaving it into my practice. Brothers Quay are an inspiration. How they hunt for little objects from everyday life and transform them into these superheroes of objects, these incredible, beautiful things. The world of childhood is important to me. I love the fantasy of the world ‘before’. I see it in the time that’s been through those objects and how they might have become damaged or destroyed, maybe the blue is faded, but I know the matter of time. We can feel what’s timeless and have timelessness. Clothes are really important too, those that can only be understood by being touched.

“What I’m really looking for is the poetry, and the weirdness.”

ES: How would you describe your creative process?

I feel this process is as similar to the feeling of inner peace, it is about creating harmony. That is how I would describe it. I hunt for objects, or I see faces, and it all comes very naturally. I often find myself thinking, “Let’s tell a story, create…”, and although it’s very known, I love it. It’s timeless.

ES: How do you cast your people? You said that you “see faces”. Do you approach people in the street? 

Absolutely. I’ll often walk the streets with a friend, or I’m struck by somebody I see on the bus. Like in Berlin when I spotted Joel for the first time, for example. He has these protruding ears and a certain formation of his mouth, he’s an utterly handsome man..

When I noticed Joel, I stopped him and said “let’s do photos”. So, in terms of street casting, it can be via Instagram or friends of friends, though most of the time it’s people I see out and about. And once I see someone like this, I’m like, I need to capture you. I need to make something with you, because your face brings me to something I know, something I want to tell. I think of Judith, for example. She always has this messy hair and looks kind of broken, like a little lamb. She has this beautiful energy. We all have different energies, then some people look like they were made during World War I, some more modern, some more glamourous. What I’m really looking for is the poetry, and the weirdness.

Outsiders is one of my favourite themes. I am drawn to this beauty of absurd, of so-called ‘white trash’. The people that time and contemporary society left behind. I love how it feels as though they are unaware or not conscious about so many things we (based in urban metropoles) are. The way how when you live in cities, you’re going to dress a certain way, talk a certain way, because you are in ‘a society.’ This is what I like about working with people from the countryside; they tend to care way less about all these rules. Feels more real and honest.

“I think for anyone that creates their own little cocoon, no one can touch it. And when you create like this, you feel your most powerful.”

ES: You like depicting what lies in the margins. 

RM: Yes, very much. But in a poetic way, not in a way that feels like it ‘distracts’ or is some problematic anthropological outing. No, I hate that approach. It connects to a feeling I have about my process, one about aesthetic experiences, that when people are curious they feel more.

There is a Czech film made in 1969 called Birds, Orphans, and Fools. I always talk about this movie,  it’s my all-time favourite. Aesthetically speaking it is  perfection. Because you have the mix of the Edwardian, and of the 60s. So, it’s hippie, beatnik, and Edwardian. The colours are great, the fabrics are great – I find all of these elements very important. Nowadays most clothes are made with poor fabrics, but before (even before the industrial revolution) garments were made with linen, cotton… very natural fabrics that feel good to the body and mind and are more pleasing aesthetically.

ES: Is makeup important as well? 

RM: I hate makeup! I love natural. I think of peasants and how they often have like those very red cheeks. I met this lady in the street. She was Polish and playing violin. I needed to see her. She was perfect. She had very bright blue eyes, those red cheeks. She was a story in herself, but she didn’t know it. At first, I thought she was homeless, because she plays in the street from seven in the morning until midnight. That’s her life. 

She travelled around; it was very mysterious. It is perfect when you see people like this, they just do what they wanna do. They don’t care about what other people are going to fucking think. They just wanna wake up at seven. Perhaps it’s dark outside, but they just go for it. And, to me, that’s poetry. That’s freedom, that’s revolution. She embodied a way of actually staying true to yourself, and of listening to yourself – which is very important. 

ES: Do you feel that we don’t all have that freedom?

RM:  I mean, we’re not free because we have a brain, we have a consciousness, we live with rules. Of course, there are rules. We’re not free in that sense of always being put into another’s box. 

ES: Would you say that art is a sort of vehicle for exercising and exploring one’s own internal freedom? 

RM: Oh, absolutely. In creating the worlds that I do, nobody can tell me anything. I don’t fucking care. I’m just gonna do what I wanna do, and I’m not gonna think about any explanation of it. I’ll just shoot a naked lady with a pig next to her, for example. If I think it’s beautiful, I feel no need to explain it. I think for anyone that creates their own little cocoon, no one can touch it. And when you create like this, you feel your most powerful.

It’s not like needing to please someone. You do it for what’s inside of you, what’s at the core of you. No matter if it’s ugly, or beautiful, or whatever, it’s something you do because of something that’s in you. I feel this is vital. 

“I think my being is just a big-ass hormone, emotional thing. It will be like that forever.”

ES: As an artist at the beginning of your career, whilst studying at Gobelins you’re also pursuing other projects. Do you feel like you have certain dreams to achieve in this path, or are you figuring it out as you go along?

RM: I’m so figuring it out! I have no idea, honestly. I’ve never been the type of person to predict or project what I will be doing ten years from now. I’m very anxious as a person. My brain just obsesses over certain aspects of my life, and the rest, I can’t even take care of them. That means my career as a photographer might be happening as one thing, but, for example, if I have a problem with my boyfriend, that is going to be far more important. Sometimes I hate myself for that, because I’m thinking, ‘You could be using your energy towards projects right now.’ Then I realise, I’m not going to grip to things that are not that important in the greater scheme. To make that choice, it’s also very powerful.

It’s like when you choose to leave your parents’ home, when you choose to get out of your city, to change your job, to buy a house, these acts are when you can also love yourself and trust yourself the most. Knowing what you are capable of. So, I think I should actually be more awake and more aware of what’s going on. I often tell myself to enjoy my time, do the best with what people give me, and be more present with it, you know? Part of that is also laziness. I am lazy. I think I’m truly lazy. 

ES: I observed you shooting the girls at Shila. It seemed to me that you are prone to imperfection, randomness, spontaneity. You didn’t spend hours on it, it felt more intuitive.

RM:  That is at the core of my life. I think my being is just a big-ass hormone, emotional thing. It will be like that forever.

“I feel a deep connection to Paris. It is my most toxic relationship. But I love it so much.”

ES: Is there anyone that would be your dream subject to shoot? 

RM: So many people, but a specific one isn’t jumping to mind right now. As said, I think about faces. Like William Dafoe. I love him so much. I love actors, because they know how to play with their body. William has an incredible face as well. His expression, eyes, teeth, ears. Ears are very important.

ES:  Do you have any mentors? Somebody that influenced you a lot in your life? It can be anybody that you’ve met along the way, it doesn’t have to be a teacher.

RM:  Yes. Dominique, my boss from the flea market. She has one of the best antiques shops in Paris, where I worked for three years. She has the best taste in the world. They way she hunts for things, there is almost a neurosis to it. She is a genius. 

ES: Where does she go to hunt for items? 

RM: Everywhere in France, sometimes in Italy, sometimes near the market where we would sell. She is extremely passionate about it, and I learned so much from her – about clothes, and about fabrics. For example, back in the days, I wouldn’t frame my pictures. It was Dominique who told me, Rose, you need to frame your pictures with beautiful antique frames, they need to be a complete vision. You can’t be ‘draft-y’ like that. Sometimes people need to fucking spank me to move… Dominique really pushed me, even on how to price my work, no matter high, she would tell me ‘It’s your work and it needs to be valued.’ 

ES: Is Paris your soul city? Is there any other place you could imagine yourself living?  

RM:  I feel a deep connection to Paris. It is my most toxic relationship. But I love it so much. 

With the mentality there, I often feel like I’m the daughter of Speedy Gonzales. I can’t go slow. I need everything to be fast. There is a quality of always rushing here that I feel is sort of unnecessary. Paris is a chaotic mess. But it’s also fun.

“I often feel like I’m the daughter of Speedy Gonzales.
I can’t go slow. I need everything to be fast.”