
About
Nerea Lakuntza, is a photographer and visual artist born in a small town in the Basque Country, Northern Spain. In her work she tries to show very personal stories in a very sensitive way and tries to adapt her visual language to the needs of each project. What fascinates her most about photography is being able to immerse herself in different lives and answer her own questions. Her process is not only about creating images, but also about what to do with them, how to present them, and how to create a narrative, be it through a photo book, an installation, or an exhibition. The most important thing is for the viewer to feel reflected, to feel empathy and interest in the subject and the people photographed.
After studying art photography at the School of Arts in Pamplona and receiving the Leonardo Da Vinci scholarship, she moved to Germany. After living in Berlin for several years, she began her studies at the Hochschule Hannover. This led her to move to Hannover and gave her the opportunity to do an internship at the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung and to publish in several German magazines and newspapers.
Education
Visual Journalism and Documentary Photography
University of Applied Sciences and Arts of Hanover
(Germany)
State-recognized professional qualification in fine arts and design in the field of artistic photography
School of Art in Pamplona
(Spain)
Exhibitions
- 06/2025 “Charlie’s Angels”
Part of the exhibition what happens in the meantime.
Arles, France. Group exhibition.
- 06/2025 “Inconclusive”
Galerie für Fotografie, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 06/2025 “Charlie’s Angels” Part of the exhibition what happens in the meantime.
Faustwiese, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 08/2023 “Control”
Sonntg Festival, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 04/2023 “Control” Part of the exhibition Männlichkeiten.
Goethe Exil, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 04/2023 “Control” Part of the exhibition Gefühle Grillen.
Osco, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 10/2020 “Atempause”
Centro de Arte Contemporáneo de Huarte, Spain. Group exhibition.
- 10/2020 “Atempause”
Multimediahalle, Zingst, Germany. Group exhibition.

About
Nerea Lakuntza, is a photographer and visual artist born in a small town in the Basque Country, Northern Spain. In her work she tries to show very personal stories in a very sensitive way and tries to adapt her visual language to the needs of each project. What fascinates her most about photography is being able to immerse herself in different lives and answer her own questions. Her process is not only about creating images, but also about what to do with them, how to present them, and how to create a narrative, be it through a photo book, an installation, or an exhibition. The most important thing is for the viewer to feel reflected, to feel empathy and interest in the subject and the people photographed.
After studying art photography at the School of Arts in Pamplona and receiving the Leonardo Da Vinci scholarship, she moved to Germany. After living in Berlin for several years, she began her studies at the Hochschule Hannover. This led her to move to Hannover and gave her the opportunity to do an internship at the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung and to publish in several German magazines and newspapers.
Education
Visual Journalism and Documentary Photography
University of Applied Sciences and Arts of Hanover
(Germany)
State-recognized professional qualification in fine arts and design in the field of artistic photography
School of Art in Pamplona
(Spain)
Exhibitions
- 06/2025 “Charlie’s Angels”
Part of the exhibition what happens in the meantime.
Arles, France. Group exhibition.
- 06/2025 “Inconclusive”
Galerie für Fotografie, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 06/2025 “Charlie’s Angels” Part of the exhibition what happens in the meantime.
Faustwiese, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 08/2023 “Control”
Sonntg Festival, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 04/2023 “Control” Part of the exhibition Männlichkeiten.
Goethe Exil, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 04/2023 “Control” Part of the exhibition Gefühle Grillen.
Osco, Hannover, Germany. Group exhibition.
- 10/2020 “Atempause”
Centro de Arte Contemporáneo de Huarte, Spain. Group exhibition.
- 10/2020 “Atempause”
Multimediahalle, Zingst, Germany. Group exhibition.
October 9, 2021 · During lockdown they started uploading videos to TikTok. Now they have millions of followers and live in a villa in Ibiza.
He waves cheerfully from a distance, tosses the skateboard in front of him, does a handstand on the board. Then he rolls upside down for fifty meters across the parking lot in front of the skate park and laughs: “Finally, influencers in the wild.” Rick has two accounts on TikTok. The international channel has 4.7 million followers, the German one 1.8 million.
Together with eight other TikTokers, he has been living for just over a month in a villa in Ibiza. They look out over the hills of the island; the sunsets are spectacular. The influencers — they call themselves creators — are in their early to mid-twenties. Most of them come from modest backgrounds: single mothers working as hairdressers or in the catering industry. At some point during the pandemic, the influencers began uploading videos to TikTok. Now, from the terrace, they look down at the villa of football legend Zinedine Zidane, which is located below on the hillside. He has a football field and a tennis court and walks his dog in the morning. Once, the kids shot a ball over the wall. Further up lives a former Spanish foreign minister, who greets them from his car when he drives by. They call their house the ten-million-euro villa.
October 9, 2021 · During lockdown they started uploading videos to TikTok. Now they have millions of followers and live in a villa in Ibiza.
He waves cheerfully from a distance, tosses the skateboard in front of him, does a handstand on the board. Then he rolls upside down for fifty meters across the parking lot in front of the skate park and laughs: “Finally, influencers in the wild.” Rick has two accounts on TikTok. The international channel has 4.7 million followers, the German one 1.8 million.
Together with eight other TikTokers, he has been living for just over a month in a villa in Ibiza. They look out over the hills of the island; the sunsets are spectacular. The influencers — they call themselves creators — are in their early to mid-twenties. Most of them come from modest backgrounds: single mothers working as hairdressers or in the catering industry. At some point during the pandemic, the influencers began uploading videos to TikTok. Now, from the terrace, they look down at the villa of football legend Zinedine Zidane, which is located below on the hillside. He has a football field and a tennis court and walks his dog in the morning. Once, the kids shot a ball over the wall. Further up lives a former Spanish foreign minister, who greets them from his car when he drives by. They call their house the ten-million-euro villa.
What happens when suddenly your whole life changes? Places that were full of life
become a silent backdrop, a reminder of days gone by. Happy days, which were taken
for granted, of which not much has remained. Everyday situations and traditions
that have developed over decades now fade away. A new place, a new home in a
city unknown to you. The beloved house in a village so familiar to you becomes
only a beautiful memory unreachable in the far distance. The longing for the old and
now so cherished life is great. But the certainty of having to accept this new life is
everywhere around you. The only thing that remains is the support and protection of
those close to us.
My phone rang at 8 AM on the morning of April 1st, 2019. It shivered down my spine
and I knew something was wrong as soon as I picked up the phone. On the other
end my sister-in-law was screaming: “ Nerea come here! Come here immediately!
Aita (Dad in Bask) is dying. He already kissed us goodbye. You need to come here as soon as you can.”
So, I rushed to the airport and got on the first flight to Pamplona, hoping to see
my father one last time. I arrived at the intensive care unit at 7 AM and found him
holding on to life, he was waiting for me.
My father is suffering from Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) since
1996. Bit by bit the condition took over his life. First, he had to stop smoking, then
he lost his job at the mill. Years later he had to sell all his cattle which had been
feeding our family for decades.
COPD constricts the airways and permanently damages the lungs. In advanced
stages, like in my father’s case, the disease makes it nearly impossible to breath. His
respiratory tract becomes so narrow that he suffers from shortness of breath even at
rest or during everyday activities like getting dressed.
Approximately one in four adults is diagnosed with COPD during their lifetime,
in many cases pulmonary emphysema. Thus, the condition is more prevalent than
asthma.
For us the diagnosis started a tense time that last until today. An emotional
rollercoaster ride filled with worries, fears and reborn hope.
What happens when suddenly your whole life changes? Places that were full of life become a silent backdrop, a reminder of days gone by. Happy days, which were taken for granted, of which not much has remained. Everyday situations and traditions that have developed over decades now fade away. A new place, a new home in a city unknown to you. The beloved house in a village so familiar to you becomes only a beautiful memory unreachable in the far distance. The longing for the old and now so cherished life is great. But the certainty of having to accept this new life is everywhere around you. The only thing that remains is the support and protection of those close to us.
My phone rang at 8 AM on the morning of April 1st, 2019. It shivered down my spine and I knew something was wrong as soon as I picked up the phone. On the other end my sister-in-law was screaming: “ Nerea come here! Come here immediately! Aita (Dad in Bask) is dying. He already kissed us goodbye. You need to come here as soon as you can.”
So, I rushed to the airport and got on the first flight to Pamplona, hoping to see my father one last time. I arrived at the intensive care unit at 7 AM and found him holding on to life, he was waiting for me.
My father is suffering from Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) since 1996. Bit by bit the condition took over his life. First, he had to stop smoking, then he lost his job at the mill. Years later he had to sell all his cattle which had been feeding our family for decades.
COPD constricts the airways and permanently damages the lungs. In advanced stages, like in my father’s case, the disease makes it nearly impossible to breath. His respiratory tract becomes so narrow that he suffers from shortness of breath even at rest or during everyday activities like getting dressed.
Approximately one in four adults is diagnosed with COPD during their lifetime, in many cases pulmonary emphysema. Thus, the condition is more prevalent than asthma.
For us the diagnosis started a tense time that last until today. An emotional rollercoaster ride filled with worries, fears and reborn hope.
When I started working at a company, my department head told me on the first day that if I ever had a problem, I should come to him. Ironically, he became my biggest problem.
Within just a few days, he took control of my life. At the beginning, it “only” started with small, kind gestures. He offered me sweets. He would bring me Red Bull or coffee especially for me. After a few days, his noose of control grew tighter and tighter.
- Where do you live?
- … Linden…
- Ah, that’s on the way! I’ll drive you home.
- … No, I actually live at Königsworther Platz, but thanks.
- Ah! That’s also on the way! I’ll drive you home.
- … umm… no, it’s okay. I like taking the train!
- I’ll drive you home!
- … umm… okay
– When do you start work tomorrow? At 10:00? Ah, me too. I’ll pick you up tomorrow!
He adjusted his shifts to mine. Scheduled his days off around mine and controlled my breaks so he could spend them with me. He wanted to know who I had spoken to and who I was spending time with. I increasingly hid in the women’s changing room. The only place where I had peace from him.
As soon as I noticed the strong smell of his perfume, I knew he was nearby. I had to get away. Hide!
- A piece of gum?
- No, thank you!
- You don’t want one?
- No, very kind, but I don’t feel like it right now.
- Why not? Give me your hand – Here, please.
- Umm, yes… thanks.
He wanted to isolate me. He forced himself into my private life as well. I would be sitting at home having breakfast and he would already be ringing the doorbell. He was the first person I saw after breakfast and the last before I went to bed.
At work, he didn’t want me to talk to other colleagues. He punished me when I laughed with other male employees. One employee was almost fired because of his jealousy.
I was supposed to feel guilty and grateful. I was supposed to see him as my hero. I was afraid, felt powerless. I needed the job because of my financial situation. I became angry at myself because I couldn’t do anything. The rose I received on Women’s Day was more like a joke. Who was supposed to help me? There was no female boss. My boss was the problem. I couldn’t turn to him.
This work is an attempt to give form to my disbelief.
When I started working at a company, my department head told me on the first day that if I ever had a problem, I should come to him. Ironically, he became my biggest problem.
Within just a few days, he took control of my life. At the beginning, it “only” started with small, kind gestures. He offered me sweets. He would bring me Red Bull or coffee especially for me. After a few days, his noose of control grew tighter and tighter.
- Where do you live?
- … Linden…
- Ah, that’s on the way! I’ll drive you home.
- … No, I actually live at Königsworther Platz, but thanks.
- Ah! That’s also on the way! I’ll drive you home.
- … umm… no, it’s okay. I like taking the train!
- I’ll drive you home!
- … umm… okay
– When do you start work tomorrow? At 10:00? Ah, me too. I’ll pick you up tomorrow!
He adjusted his shifts to mine. Scheduled his days off around mine and controlled my breaks so he could spend them with me. He wanted to know who I had spoken to and who I was spending time with. I increasingly hid in the women’s changing room. The only place where I had peace from him.
As soon as I noticed the strong smell of his perfume, I knew he was nearby. I had to get away. Hide!
- A piece of gum?
- No, thank you!
- You don’t want one?
- No, very kind, but I don’t feel like it right now.
- Why not? Give me your hand – Here, please.
- Umm, yes… thanks.
He wanted to isolate me. He forced himself into my private life as well. I would be sitting at home having breakfast and he would already be ringing the doorbell. He was the first person I saw after breakfast and the last before I went to bed.
At work, he didn’t want me to talk to other colleagues. He punished me when I laughed with other male employees. One employee was almost fired because of his jealousy.
I was supposed to feel guilty and grateful. I was supposed to see him as my hero. I was afraid, felt powerless. I needed the job because of my financial situation. I became angry at myself because I couldn’t do anything. The rose I received on Women’s Day was more like a joke. Who was supposed to help me? There was no female boss. My boss was the problem. I couldn’t turn to him.
This work is an attempt to give form to my disbelief.
„Inconclusive“ ist ein dokumentarisches Projekt über die ursprüngliche, unauslöschliche Bindung zwischen Mutter und Kind – und ihren Bruch durch Zwang und Macht. Nach dem Spanischen Bürgerkrieg begann eine systematische Repression gegen republikanische Frauen, gestützt auf die Theorie des „roten Gens“ des Psychiaters Vallejo-Nágera. Was zunächst als ideologische Rechtfertigung erschien, verwandelte sich bald in ein Geschäft: Kinder wurden gegen Geld oder Gefälligkeiten weitergegeben – oder weil ihre Mütter nicht in die ethischen und moralischen Maßstäbe des damaligen Nationalkatholizismus passten. So entstand ein Netzwerk erzwungener Adoptionen, das während der Franco-Diktatur und sogar in der Demokratie bis in die 1990er Jahre fortbestand.
Schätzungen zufolge wurden bis zu 300.000 Kinder ihren Familien entrissen – viele unmittelbar nach der Geburt, oft unter der Lüge, sie seien tot, oder durch die Ausnutzung der Not und Unwissenheit ihrer Mütter.
Das Projekt der Fotografin entspringt einer persönlichen Auseinandersetzung mit ihrer Familiengeschichte. Es ist eine visuelle Spurensuche nach Identität und Erinnerung. Dafür verbindet sie Aufnahmen von Orten, an denen diese Geschehnisse stattfanden – Wohnungen, Pensionen, Krankenhäuser – mit Porträts betroffener Menschen, historischen Archiven und erklärenden Texten. Auf diese Weise entsteht ein Werk aus mehreren Schichten, die miteinander in Dialog treten.
Die Geschichte versucht, das Verlorene zu rekonstruieren, bevor es endgültig verschwindet. Sie will das Schweigen der Vergangenheit brechen und eine verschwundene Wahrheit sichtbar machen.
„Inconclusive“ ist ein dokumentarisches Projekt über die ursprüngliche, unauslöschliche Bindung zwischen Mutter und Kind – und ihren Bruch durch Zwang und Macht. Nach dem Spanischen Bürgerkrieg begann eine systematische Repression gegen republikanische Frauen, gestützt auf die Theorie des „roten Gens“ des Psychiaters Vallejo-Nágera. Was zunächst als ideologische Rechtfertigung erschien, verwandelte sich bald in ein Geschäft: Kinder wurden gegen Geld oder Gefälligkeiten weitergegeben – oder weil ihre Mütter nicht in die ethischen und moralischen Maßstäbe des damaligen Nationalkatholizismus passten. So entstand ein Netzwerk erzwungener Adoptionen, das während der Franco-Diktatur und sogar in der Demokratie bis in die 1990er Jahre fortbestand.
Schätzungen zufolge wurden bis zu 300.000 Kinder ihren Familien entrissen – viele unmittelbar nach der Geburt, oft unter der Lüge, sie seien tot, oder durch die Ausnutzung der Not und Unwissenheit ihrer Mütter.
Das Projekt der Fotografin entspringt einer persönlichen Auseinandersetzung mit ihrer Familiengeschichte. Es ist eine visuelle Spurensuche nach Identität und Erinnerung. Dafür verbindet sie Aufnahmen von Orten, an denen diese Geschehnisse stattfanden – Wohnungen, Pensionen, Krankenhäuser – mit Porträts betroffener Menschen, historischen Archiven und erklärenden Texten. Auf diese Weise entsteht ein Werk aus mehreren Schichten, die miteinander in Dialog treten.
Die Geschichte versucht, das Verlorene zu rekonstruieren, bevor es endgültig verschwindet. Sie will das Schweigen der Vergangenheit brechen und eine verschwundene Wahrheit sichtbar machen.
Four sisters, four different places and the same goal,to live a life in the service of the Lord.
Four of my father’s seven sisters decided at a very early age, when they were about thirteen years old, to go to aconvent of the Servants of Mary to begin their preparation as religious.
All of them were born in a small village in the Basque Country, northern Spain. However, they now live in four different places: Rome, Paris, Madrid and London. They did not decide to live there, but the Mother Superiors decided for them. Some of them were even sent there without being asked, as soon as they finished their studies and took their vows (poverty, obedience and chastity). For most of their lives they were only allowed to visit their family once every fouryears. Now this has changed and they are allowed to visit once every two years.
The Servants of Mary, ministers to the sick, is a congregation founded in 1851 by Soledad Torres Acosta in Madrid. The Servants, in addition to dedicating themselves to prayer, have studied nursing and are dedicated to caring for the sick,especially during the night.
In 2011, the congregation had over 1,628 sisters and 114 houses. Today, the number of vocations is decreasing, so thecommunity is now undergoing a restructuring process.
Three of my aunts no longer practice their profession, because they are too old for it. However, they still do all kinds ofwork at the convent, such as sewing, washing, cleaning, laundry work, etc.
The convents of the Servants of Mary are divided into two parts. On the one hand, there are the chapel and the visitingrooms, which are used for family and friends to be received. On the other, there are the rest of the rooms, which arecloistered and normally no one from outside the community is allowed to enter.
Since they were very young, my aunts knew they wanted to become nuns, because they felt the vocation and decidedto wear the habit. This is composed of a veil, which covers their heads, not showing any hair, a kind of poncho, with aturtleneck shirt and a long skirt. This clothing comes in two colors, white and black. They wear black in winter and whitein summer, although each one has their preferences and there are times when these rules are not met.
Another facet that changed for my aunts when they became nuns is that they changed their baptismal names, givingthem a new identity. Even so, they have never felt very attached to their new name, so two of them decided to go backto the name their parents had given them.
My aunt Rufina or Sister Engracia, as she is known in the convent, is the oldest of the nuns and the second oldest of allthe sisters. She has been living in Rome for more than 70 years, and knows that because of her delicate health she willnever return to her homeland, to the house where she was born. In spite of her advanced age, she has a fresh mind,and makes herself loved and respected in the convent. Since she lives in the same house as Mother General, she hasalways taken care of her sisters in the distance, making sure that they were always well cared for.
Aunt Balbina, or Sister Piedad, has lived most of her life in Paris. Despite having undergone chemotherapytreatments, she has worked for a long time caring for the sick and oragnizing the bureaucracy of all the nuns in Frenchconvents. She has a special sensitivity, she is very emotional and feels very intensely.
Aunt Josefa, who was initially given the name of Sister Dulcenombre, changed it as soon as she had theopportunity, becoming Sister Josefa again. She has lived most of her life in Madrid, in the founding house of thecongregation. She is very nervous, extremely hard-working and dedicated. In spite of having problems with hervertebrae, she continues to work hard in the convent, doing sewing, washing dishes, etc.
Finally, my aunt Carmen or Sister Carmen is the youngest of my nunaunts. She has been living in London for about twelve years and isthe only one of her sisters who is still actively caring for the sick. Shehas always enjoyed studying and has more than one degree, althoughshe has not always been allowed to study as much as she would haveliked. She is a woman with fixed ideas, who knows what she wantsand tries to achieve it by any means at her disposal.
Four sisters, four different places and the same goal,to live a life in the service of the Lord.
Four of my father’s seven sisters decided at a very early age, when they were about thirteen years old, to go to aconvent of the Servants of Mary to begin their preparation as religious.
All of them were born in a small village in the Basque Country, northern Spain. However, they now live in four different places: Rome, Paris, Madrid and London. They did not decide to live there, but the Mother Superiors decided for them. Some of them were even sent there without being asked, as soon as they finished their studies and took their vows (poverty, obedience and chastity). For most of their lives they were only allowed to visit their family once every fouryears. Now this has changed and they are allowed to visit once every two years.
The Servants of Mary, ministers to the sick, is a congregation founded in 1851 by Soledad Torres Acosta in Madrid. The Servants, in addition to dedicating themselves to prayer, have studied nursing and are dedicated to caring for the sick,especially during the night.
In 2011, the congregation had over 1,628 sisters and 114 houses. Today, the number of vocations is decreasing, so thecommunity is now undergoing a restructuring process.
Three of my aunts no longer practice their profession, because they are too old for it. However, they still do all kinds ofwork at the convent, such as sewing, washing, cleaning, laundry work, etc.
The convents of the Servants of Mary are divided into two parts. On the one hand, there are the chapel and the visitingrooms, which are used for family and friends to be received. On the other, there are the rest of the rooms, which arecloistered and normally no one from outside the community is allowed to enter.
Since they were very young, my aunts knew they wanted to become nuns, because they felt the vocation and decidedto wear the habit. This is composed of a veil, which covers their heads, not showing any hair, a kind of poncho, with aturtleneck shirt and a long skirt. This clothing comes in two colors, white and black. They wear black in winter and whitein summer, although each one has their preferences and there are times when these rules are not met.
Another facet that changed for my aunts when they became nuns is that they changed their baptismal names, givingthem a new identity. Even so, they have never felt very attached to their new name, so two of them decided to go backto the name their parents had given them.
My aunt Rufina or Sister Engracia, as she is known in the convent, is the oldest of the nuns and the second oldest of allthe sisters. She has been living in Rome for more than 70 years, and knows that because of her delicate health she willnever return to her homeland, to the house where she was born. In spite of her advanced age, she has a fresh mind,and makes herself loved and respected in the convent. Since she lives in the same house as Mother General, she hasalways taken care of her sisters in the distance, making sure that they were always well cared for.
Aunt Balbina, or Sister Piedad, has lived most of her life in Paris. Despite having undergone chemotherapytreatments, she has worked for a long time caring for the sick and oragnizing the bureaucracy of all the nuns in Frenchconvents. She has a special sensitivity, she is very emotional and feels very intensely.
Aunt Josefa, who was initially given the name of Sister Dulcenombre, changed it as soon as she had theopportunity, becoming Sister Josefa again. She has lived most of her life in Madrid, in the founding house of thecongregation. She is very nervous, extremely hard-working and dedicated. In spite of having problems with hervertebrae, she continues to work hard in the convent, doing sewing, washing dishes, etc.
Finally, my aunt Carmen or Sister Carmen is the youngest of my nunaunts. She has been living in London for about twelve years and isthe only one of her sisters who is still actively caring for the sick. Shehas always enjoyed studying and has more than one degree, althoughshe has not always been allowed to study as much as she would haveliked. She is a woman with fixed ideas, who knows what she wantsand tries to achieve it by any means at her disposal.
With a blanket Julius denies himself for the first time. He is lying in a bed next to him a nakedman. Around fifty students dance in his two-room apartment that evening in summer 2016. It is the farewell party of Julius as he will move to another city for his six month internship. Some guests are knocking at the bedroom door to pick up their jackets. Julius throws theblankets over the man at his side. He does not want anybody to know he is gay and just hadsex for the first time with a man. Today Julius is 23 years old.
His parents would never accept hat their only son likes men. Julius lives in between twoworlds: In the city where he is studying he lives his new reality, back in his small home townhe plays a different role.
For my father, I am a disappointment «says Julius.“First it turned out that I am not made forforest work, which my father loves so much. Then I started studying humanities instead of Computer science, like my father did. For him I’m not a real man.” Although homosexualityis widely accepted in western Europe today, there are still many associated issues especiallyin smaller towns. New technologies enables Generation Z to think out of the box, becomingmuch more aware of its own identity and realize that there is more than they experience intheir day to day life.
The protagonist of my story did not have is coming out yet. For this reason he prefers toremain anonymous. In my selection of photos I use the colors of the LGTB flag in different paintings and art techniques to hide his identity.
With a blanket Julius denies himself for the first time. He is lying in a bed next to him a nakedman. Around fifty students dance in his two-room apartment that evening in summer 2016. It is the farewell party of Julius as he will move to another city for his six month internship. Some guests are knocking at the bedroom door to pick up their jackets. Julius throws theblankets over the man at his side. He does not want anybody to know he is gay and just hadsex for the first time with a man. Today Julius is 23 years old.
His parents would never accept hat their only son likes men. Julius lives in between twoworlds: In the city where he is studying he lives his new reality, back in his small home townhe plays a different role.
For my father, I am a disappointment «says Julius.“First it turned out that I am not made forforest work, which my father loves so much. Then I started studying humanities instead of Computer science, like my father did. For him I’m not a real man.” Although homosexualityis widely accepted in western Europe today, there are still many associated issues especiallyin smaller towns. New technologies enables Generation Z to think out of the box, becomingmuch more aware of its own identity and realize that there is more than they experience intheir day to day life.
The protagonist of my story did not have is coming out yet. For this reason he prefers toremain anonymous. In my selection of photos I use the colors of the LGTB flag in different paintings and art techniques to hide his identity.