The Russian photographer’s erotic new series unearths thorny experiences of manhood, sexuality and discrimination in France
Two years ago, Russian photographer Vlad Zorin embarked on a journey to document stories of male love across France. However, his plan was quickly foiled when he discovered that the realities were more nuanced and prickly. The resulting series, With Love from France (2024), charts a 1,000-kilometre trip through multiple cities and municipalities, forming an eponymous book and exhibition airing in London this September. Characters of various sexual orientations, racial backgrounds, ages and shapes were shot through the tender lens of Zorin, who also interviewed each subject. Despite the questions being relatively open, the responses they garnered were rich, touching on everything from experiences of racism, homophobia, HIV stigma and the trans-masc experience. “There was absolutely no intention of putting people on the spot or coming up with criticism,” says Zorin. “It's [via] the characters’ answers that I became aware of the issues.”
Zorin, an angelic, blue-haired figure, made his way across the country with a close friend, fluent in French, supporting as translator. Often thumbing it to the next location, the shy photographer cast men for his shoots by spending time in cafés and meeting locals, or alternatively, through Tinder, where he put up an ad for models of all backgrounds and looks. The initial rose-tinted vision of his project was further complicated when, during one session, a model lunged towards him for a kiss. “I felt quite distressed because I hadn’t expected that,” says Zorin. “Meeting up with unknown characters, I was, in a way, putting myself in potentially dangerous situations.”
Still, Zorin prevailed, passing through Bordeaux, Toulouse and beyond. For context, the same year his idea was conceived, Zorin had fled his native Russia for Paris following an exhibition in Moscow, Soft Power (2022). The show in question made an outright statement against the war in Ukraine, presenting photographs and films of men in underwear, embracing or rubbing themselves with toy tanks. “I will never live in Russia again,” affirms Zorin. “I will be living in France for the rest of my life.”
Throughout the project, men pose in sensual positions, each wearing a white mask. Slumped across antique furnishings or lying on their own beds, on the roof or straddling curtains, the figures appear at ease, as if the mask gives them permission to be sensual and effete – sometimes, even outwardly sexual. One work shows a naked man gazing towards the camera from the comfort of a plush, green armchair. The accompanying interviews, some of which lasted over four hours and reduced Zorin to tears, recount personal anecdotes from childhood and adolescence through to adulthood.
Therein, a participant called Didier remembers his mother’s response to finding a gay novel he had enjoyed at age 13. She forced him to throw it away; instead, he burnt it page by page. “ I found this gesture more noble,” Didier tells Zorin. Dider also shares his first homosexual experience from his compulsory military service, aged 21, later touching on the spectre of AIDS. “When I go to the public swimming pool at Les Halles, I take rue Rambuteau. I pass in front of the hairdresser’s where I used to go when I first moved to Paris in the 1980s,” says Didier. “One day, he disappeared. I tell myself that if I’d have lived my sexuality to its fullest, I would also probably be dead. It’s ambiguous: in a way, my mother destroyed my sexuality, but she might have also protected it.”
Elsewhere, an HIV-positive participant called Yassin discusses his cruel experiences of discrimination on dating apps, while Arkadi pinpoints the sheer economic expense of being a trans man, not least the dysphoria – “Since I liked girls, I wondered if transitioning meant I was becoming heterosexual.” Benjamin, a professional model, has a wife and a daughter. He praises his late mother as the person who taught him how to be a man, while also unveiling the thorns of arriving in France as a migrant from Cameroon. “I’ve always faced comments in France about my skin colour,” he explains.
Zorin’s previous series, With Love from Russia (2021), followed the same format of shooting and interviewing subjects, although they were largely of a similar age and background to him in Russia. It helped him accept and understand his own sexuality, a mission which this next project has concluded. Poring over the images, viewers of all persuasions can appreciate the intimacy and vulnerability at play. “It’s not really about particular countries or sexual orientations,” says Zorin of his interest in men’s bodies. “It’s just about the general notion of masculinity and how men experience themselves.”
Indeed, Zorin is keen to note that even the heterosexual men he shot altered their body language and physicality during their sessions, exhibiting a freedom that surprised them. “My book is for openness in dialogue because it’s exactly the suppression of these subjects that creates homophobia and racism in society.” His hopes for the future? That men will be comfortable without the mask, literally and symbolically.
With Love From France shows in London Upsilon Gallery from November 20 – December 14, 2024.
