Paulina Charlemont

Black and white portrait of a person with long hair, looking over their shoulder in a dimly lit setting.

Introducing the artist.

Paulina Charlemont is an artist based in Paris. I know Paulina as a photographer, specifically for her black and white self-portrait work which has rapidly accelerated in distinction, voice, and in harnessing her immediate surroundings. If you ever believe that work can only be created by leaving the home, I encourage you to view Paulina’s work.

I also know Paulina as a subject for my own work. She supported me during my formative portrait work in London and for that, I shall be entirely grateful.

In the creative realm, Paulina is not just a photographer, as you’ll read below. I shall leave this to her to explain, as she is far more eloquent than I.

So people, here are some thoughts from Paulina Charlemont.


Q.  Let’s kick off with a question about your creative life. If you were to write a bio, for say a magazine, what might it be?

I am a Paris-based multidisciplinary artist with Polish roots. My artistic journey began nearly twenty years ago at the age of seven when I started modeling for children's fashion magazines. Over the years, I became a self-taught painter and musician, particularly obsessed with the guitar, often playing up to twelve hours a day and frequently skipping school to either paint or spend time with my Les Paul. While I lack formal education in fine arts, I view this as an asset. I earned my BA in Management, Marketing, and International Business in London. Recently, I completed a master's degree in cultural affairs in Paris and am now pursuing another master's in art history.

Since moving to London in 2017, I have modelled for 74 book covers for Polish photographer Magdalena Russocka and freelanced as a model during my studies. Last year, I realized my dream of taking up photography, focusing on a self-portrait series while occasionally modelling for painters and other photographers.

Q. How has your photography palette, from what you photograph and what you look at, changed over the years?

Over the past ten years, I have lived in four different cities: Poznań in my home country of Poland, London in the UK, Freiburg in Germany during the pandemic, and now I am settled in Paris. When I moved to London, I remember taking many pictures of the Millennium and Blackfriars bridges and the cityscape by Southwark, especially while working at Tate Modern and living literally on its doorstep. During my time in Germany, I took numerous pictures of the Black Forest, first exploring the wide surroundings. In Paris, I did the same. I start from the exterior, observing my context and capitalizing on my somewhat childlike enthusiasm for any new place and its peculiarities. After some time, I tend to turn my focus inward, capturing portraits, close-ups, and details.

What I photograph follows an inductive process. Not because I get bored with my surroundings—quite the opposite. At a certain point, I have incorporated enough of the surroundings into myself and my daily life that I can become both the subject and the object, blending in. It is a return to the most fundamental aspect of my existence: the only thing I truly own, my body. It feels natural.


Q. Who are the photographers you are drawn to? And what is it about their work that draws you to them?

The first thing that comes to mind when I think about the aesthetic element shared by the photographers whose work I admire is that many of them work in black and white. In some cases, this was simply because color photography was not widely accessible. I think of Berenice Abbott, Paul Strand, and André Kertész. In other cases, like Helmut Newton, Gregory Crewdson, Sally Mann, and Vivian Maier, they chose monochrome. What draws me to them? I feel that their photographs emit a confidence in their vision and a physical need to create. Additionally, I am a big fan of 19th-century Victorian portraits, contact prints, and the first motion picture experiments, naturally thinking of Muybridge. There is something extremely seductive and honest about their work, a lack of pretension that we rarely find in contemporary photographers.

Nowadays, you have the choice to work in color or not. I believe that you first need to master and understand black and white before experimenting with color. There are many elements in a photograph: composition, vanishing point, contrasts, chiaroscuro. Monochromatism forces you to see more and better; you need to tell the story with something other than color. Of course, colors can be out of this world, but what is beyond the color that is of interest there? It is easy to catch the eye's attention with color. Can you do it as well with black and white?

Q. When you make a picture, what is your instinct? Can you describe such a thing as 'instinct'? Or, do you purposefully construct your pictures?

An instinct... You know when something works, and you know when it doesn't, and you rarely find yourself in between because you are honest with yourself. There are moments when I have an impulse to capture something. In my case, it can also be a drawing, a combination of colors with a phrase, a body movement, or a melody. One of the very few rules I follow is not to force things and to try not to get frustrated. Everything happens for a reason. Quite often, the only person I work with is myself. I cannot work against myself. I need to listen to my heart.

Do I purposefully construct my pictures? Yes and no. Yes, because for me to take a self-portrait, I need to construct a lot of things. In my pictures, you can see many yoga-like poses or body fragments that imply I am physically flexible. I exercise a lot and regularly. I love it. So, I first construct myself physically, the way you arrange a table set with a basket of fruit for a still-life drawing. You would wash the fruit, arrange it carefully, etc. For me, it's exercise, nutrition, sleep, creams, and so on. Then I construct the studio and the light. It took me some months to find a good lighting recipe. I sometimes sketch the ideas. I work in series, so I look for visual coherence in what the images say themselves and what I want to say through them. I then use Photoshop to make contrast adjustments and other basic settings and to find a framing that suits the project. Every small movement—whether of light, myself in front of the camera, or in Lightroom—needs to be constructed carefully if I want to achieve a precise result.

But I don't think that instinct or intuition is the opposite of construction. Instinct is the starting point of any idea; it is the "having a sense of" something, meaning being capable of making something out of nothing. So the "no" answer is because it all starts with some spontaneous ideas for compositions. I just need to work on the translation mechanism to show it to the world.

“One of the very few rules I follow is not to force things and to try not to get frustrated. Everything happens for a reason.”

- Paulina Charlemont

Q. Personally, I can't abide talking about equipment and instead prefer to talk about inspiration, style and motivation. What are your thoughts? (apologies for such a loaded question).

Well... you cannot achieve the effect of a thick oil impasto with watercolors. You need to understand what is happening on a technical and material level to effectively express your "inspiration" or "style." The more you know about the equipment, the freer you are in your creation. I spent six months and took over five thousand test photos to set up my studio in a way that allows me to achieve the desired result in just a few minutes.

Everything is an inspiration. Any single moment has the potential to change your life, becoming the origin of a drawing or a pose. Every single person or thing that appears in my life shapes me and exerts some influence. Perhaps this answer is terribly banal, but my biggest inspiration is the fact that I am. That is to say, my experience of my own life in this world is the only experience I will ever have. My body is the only thing I will ever truly possess. I am just fascinated by the fact that I exist. I am a sack of bones, flesh, and blood. I think you can see this in my self-portraits. I bend my body into unusual poses so that we can see my bones, my structure, my physical form. Because I am eager to share with others what is happening in my head and listen to what is in theirs, I have motivation. I will stop being inspired when I stop observing.

Q. How would you describe the style of your other art, cartoons, illustrations, sketches? 

Efficient, tending towards minimalism. For years now, I have been using black and white for my paintings (mainly portraits), and my series of satirical drawings and cartoons are done with black ink only. It's a similar story with my photography. As I mentioned earlier, I believe you need to master working without color before using it. The second point is that color has become a default today simply because technology allows it. Just because it exists and we are used to it does not mean it is always beneficial to use it. For instance, color is not necessary for my New Yorker-style cartoons. Over the years, I have learned to subtract down to what is absolutely necessary to make my point, and for many things, color is not essential. I want to save my time and the viewer’s energy. So, in my case, this technical choice nurtures the style. Content-wise, it is all ironic, sarcastic, and not to be taken too seriously. In such uncertain times, we need more humor. Are we left with anything else?

Q. What's your view on artistic style? Is it something for an artist to consider, strive for, or leave for others to make their own judgements?

I think most serious artists you come across have developed their style, either consciously or by accident, along the way. If you pursue a fine art degree or practice for years, you are either destined to develop your unique point of view or you may conclude that you should consider another career path. Having a unique artistic proposition, a unique voice, is the most important thing (the question—what?/why?). Finding one’s medium of expression is to have one’s own style (the question—how?). It's about transcending a coherent narrative over your work.

Of course, it is useful to have an external perspective; hence the role of an art critic and even your mom, right? It is important to have a dialogue. Visual art is made to be seen and shared. Whether we want it or not, reactions always impact artists, who do not work in a vacuum.

Q. How has your art and creative process changed since living in Paris?

I made my first steps in Paris during the pandemic, so that was very special, as you can imagine. I started by living in Montmartre, the historically artistic district. I spent months strolling in the area during the lockdowns, getting excited about the life I would have once everything returned to normal. What has changed is the fact that, for the first time in years, I settled down, and even though I moved within Paris, I always had a space to create. It allows me to think more clearly and be more efficient. In my preceding student years, I often had my whole life in one small room.

Paris is, in my opinion, one of the most inspiring cities. I say that the reason I moved here is the reflection of the city lights on the Seine at night. There is something magical about it. I go to operas, classical music concerts, theater, art exhibitions, and La Cinémathèque. I am aware of the privilege we have in this city with its cultural and historical heritage, so I am doing my best to make the most of it. Plugging myself into many power sockets at the same time diversifies my energy.

Either way, I feel like I am just beginning my journey here. When I moved to Paris, I did not know a single word of French. Language is a basic thing, but it has changed me a lot. I was very shy back then. Now, I feel like I have been given a new life. It gives me an incredible amount of energy and freedom. I have gotten to know many artists and wonderful people who inspire me and provide generous doses of encouragement in what I do. I am very grateful.

On a creative level, I have become much more pragmatic. I think that is what has changed over the years, especially after I moved to Paris. I am trying to simplify things and get rid of whatever is not necessary to achieve the results I am aiming for.

Q.  You're an artist who works in the art world, and you live in Paris. Some might think this is living a dream life, from an artistic perspective. How correct or incorrect is this perception?

Any big city will have its downsides: it is competitive, and the artistic circle may seem hermetic. But name a city for which this is not true. I do not focus on that. I focus on what works and not on what does not work. Having a great life full of artistic stimulation is not about Paris. It is about you going out of your comfort zone and wanting to have a dialogue with the people, places, and things that surround you. I focus my energy on what is happening here and now, on what I have and not on what I do not have.

In the past years, I have had many various jobs, from serving ice cream and coffee to working as a salesperson at Harrods and Cartier, assisting a curator at the Southeast Museum of Photography in Florida, and doing the very exciting provenance research, a sort of art detective work. When I first came to Paris, I knew one person and did not speak French. I was working online, studying art history and molecular spectroscopy on my own, and working as a babysitter. I am not sure who would call it a dream life. But when I began my master's degrees, I could just focus on my studies and artistic endeavors. Today, you could say that I live a dream life, but the journey has been a challenging, bumpy ride.

I believe that you are destined to have a dream life, especially in Paris, when you realize what is out there, learn to appreciate it, and make the most of it every day.

“There is nothing more subjective than the reception of art. I do not try to appeal to any specific audience. Like-minded people self-select.”

- Paulina Charlemont

Q. Describe a future exhibition of your work. What do you think people will think of your  work? Or, what do you hope  people will think?

At the moment, I am working on two projects that I would like to share in the form of an exhibition. The first one is about book covers. As I have mentioned, I have been collaborating with one photographer for many years now, and the fruit of this collaboration is the books with me on their covers. This exhibition will be a collective one, as it involves all the authors of the books, without whom the project would not even exist. The other project is my first series of photographic self-portraits in black and white, which unveil my body. Even though it is very personal at first, I am trying to create images that may resonate with many people for various reasons. The first level of interpretation is that of a purely aesthetic composition. The second is a story about a young woman who takes up the camera to express the need for self-representation and self-determination. The third level is about my personal story; it talks about what I have been through.

What will others think? People are welcome to think whatever they want. There is nothing more subjective than the reception of art. I do not try to appeal to any specific audience. Like-minded people self-select. I would simply like people to understand my choices, be able to take something from what I do for them, and have fun looking at my work.

Q.  You were in a short film once. What would motivate you to participate in future acting work? 

Even twice… ;) I have been a model for around 18 years now. Even though I move and dance all the time during a shoot, the result is a fixed image. I would like to have more room for expression, which is why acting seems appealing. Last summer, I had the pleasure of being an extra in a medium-length film. It has happened to me many times when meeting someone for the first time that the person was convinced I am mainly an actress, not a model. It’s funny and frustrating. This gives me a kind of courage to give it a go when opportunities present themselves. What would motivate me to act in the future is the same thing that motivates me to create series of drawings or play the piano from time to time: diversification. For me, all categories of art and life blend. Think Gesamtkunstwerk.

Q. I'll leave with an overused question, but one I find interesting nevertheless. If you could hang out with one artist (past or living) for a day, hour, or even a couple of minutes, who would it be?

Marina Abramović.

Let’s work together.

To make an enquiry, simply send me a message via the form below and I’ll get right back to you. I’m based near Tauranga and work across New Zealand.