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Young love. Young Queer love. It's a minefield of emotions, actions and people. But what do these complex and ever changing romantic relationships looks like when you put a camera to them? We recently spoke with Krystian Lipiec about his unique approach to documenting lovers, friends and everything in between.

Hey Krystian, first off I'm always interested in hearing what drew people to photography. Why is photography the medium for you?

I  started taking pictures after I met a guy online who I slowly began to fall in love with. I was 17 at the time and he was a photographer. The passion that he showed for his craft brushed off on me, being an impressionable 17 year old I wanted to be like him and started taking my own photographs. That’s the short version of the story, but I love photography due to being able to make a very quick expression of how you feel in a moment. However, I also love the long process photography allows you to embody to make long term photo projects.

Where are you based and how important has your location been in influencing your work?

 I live in Warsaw, Poland. But I work between Warsaw and Berlin. Those two different locations influence me as a photographer. Due to travelling between locations I’m always learning something new about myself and those around me. The place which you could say has influenced me the most is my mothers house, tucked away in a small village. Surrounded by a huge forest, I love to walk there and take in the silence and nature, especially in the early morning.

Your work and especially the project 'Between Us' has an intimate queerness. Can you tell me more about your process and the project (in detail)?

This was one of my first photography projects. I am very sentimental about it, because I didn’t know yet that I want to be a photographer and I just took pictures of my friends and lovers, it was a natural way of just expressing my feelings for those around me. 

After two years I decided to go back to photography school and finish my education there. I think the way I like to work and could say is my ‘process’ is photographing what attracts me and after a few weeks, laying all the photographs out and figure out what they are saying to me. This is very different to how I work as a commercial photographer and like the freedom my personal work brings me. 

How important is it for you to represent queer lives and culture within your photography?

I never was thinking  about representing queer lives or culture within my work. It just sort of happened. I document what is going on around me and if I am a queer guy, then my work will be queer because I am just showing my life in photographs. I want people to see more than just queerness in my work and take away different things. 

There's a unique energy and tenderness to your images. How do you go about taking photographs when with friends and lovers?

I am a nostalgic person at heart. I was born in a small city in the middle of nowhere. I want to show the ‘beauty’ of simple and queer life but also show my romantic life for what it is. Both in the successes and failures we all have with relationships.

Are there any unique stories around the people in your images?

There are a few funny stories involving the people in the photographs. But mostly I like to watch how those people changed. I don’t have contact with all of them but sometimes they come back to me and we catch up and they share their new stories backed up by a new found energy from being away. Those pictures also show me how I changed myself. They remind me to be more spontaneous and teach me that “nothing is forever” and things can easily be lost as they are found. 

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Continuing our look at photographers telling stories in the 2020 lockdown, we recently caught up with British photographer Alice Martin whose delicate and sun kissed series We're so lucky to have this place, aren't we? spends time at her nearby allotment which became a calming place and a way to connect with others in her community.

Hey Alice, what drew people to photography. Why is photography the medium for you?

For me, photography is a way of slowing down, taking time to think and see the world and people differently to how they immediately appear. I particularly like forming connections and conveying them, attaching emotion to these images, portraying how I see things. My mind moves very fast due to ADHD and using analogue processes has always kept me excited, I’m having to think of each image deeper, is it worth taking, etc – I think that’s why photography became the thing for me. 

Where are you based and how important has your location been in influencing your work?

I’m based in south-west London, but I grew up in Surrey, so I was always close to the city. Being in such a busy place helps me home in on the subtleties within the landscape, when there’s so much going on around me, I find it easier to spot moments of stillness. I’ve always liked meeting and capturing the different types of people that come together in one space, and so being based in a city like London is perfect for this. This is something that influenced me a lot with we’re so lucky to have this place, aren’t we? as the allotment was so multicultural. 

During the 2020 lockdown yourself and others found warmth and connection at the nearby allotment. How important was this space during the uncertain times of 2020?

The allotment was an oasis, a sanctuary, it was the one place outside everyone’s homes that we could visit no matter what. It offered a sense of stability, a community to safely socialise with which enormously helped with morale and loneliness, physical activity that was more varied than a daily walk, and a safe and peaceful space to literally just sit and relax. 

For many people there they became fonder of the space as most importantly it provided a sense of purpose and a way to escape from the enforced monotony of lockdown. I felt incredibly lucky to have found the allotment and spend time with the community there, it helped keep me sane. 

The time spent there has manifested into the project 'we're so lucky to have this place, aren't we?' - tell me more about the stories you wanted to tell here.

I wanted to translate the way the allotment-goers and I saw the space, which was as this paradise. Again, it’s about how the allotment acted as a saviour throughout the lockdowns. The title itself is something that one plot-holder said to me, so I like that I’m directly portraying how the community feel through this. I’m posing the audience the question, almost getting the viewer to see how lucky we are to have such an escape during these lockdowns. Another important aspect I wanted to communicate was that allotments aren’t filled with the cliché middle classed retired man anymore, they actually comprise of a diverse community, whether that be age, gender, race, or anything else.

For those who might not be aware of allotment culture, can you tell me a little bit about what it's like being on an allotment with other green-fingered neighbours? 

It’s a super friendly environment. Everyone helps each other, whether that be with advice or giving crops or equipment, swapping seeds, anything really. The community really welcomed me in which was lovely, I got a lot of gifts throughout my time there and people always invited me to their community days and working parties. I also learnt it’s really easy to grow rhubarb. 

There is an optimism to your work. Did the allotment help provide this perspective?

For sure, upon entering the allotment it was like a weight being lifted. All the stress of covid and how crowded London can be just disappears there as it’s so spacious and serene. I never realised how much I liked the sound of birdsong, but when you hear that instead of constant traffic it’s beautiful. To have a tranquil space like that makes it an incredibly optimistic place which was only enhanced by the pandemic and its restrictions. I didn’t meet anyone in the three months there that didn’t feel an affinity with the allotment.

What's next for you?

I’m in the early stages of planning my next project which I hope to begin photographing for in the next month or two, so I’m excited to see where that leads me. Along with that it’s just a case of keeping up with any commissions that come through, most of which are in fashion which I also enjoy. Fingers crossed; I’ll eventually be able make a living from photography.

See the full series here

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The 2020 lockdown in the UK meant a lot of us were separated from our loved ones. But for some, we were flung closer to our family members. Photographer Peter Flude spent the second lockdown with his cousin Alex, who had just qualified as a paramedic working on the front line of the pandemic. Taking what free time they could when Alex wasn't working, the pair decided to surf the cool waves along the south coast of England. The result is a series of beautiful and intimate portraits of Alex enjoying the water and his cousins company. We caught up recently with Flude to discuss that strange time and male bonds.

Hey Peter, thanks for taking the time to talk to us. I’d love to know how the idea to use the beach and water as a place to connect and enjoy the company of your cousin?

Thank you, great to talk to you! For me and Alex, water has always been a place of connection, so it was less of a conscious choice and more so a continuation of something fundamental which has always bonded us. We’re both part Swedish on our mothers’ sides of the family, so spent a lot of our childhood, teenage, and young adult years visiting Sweden together. Weeks spent around Swedish lakes were probably some of our first significant experiences of spending time together in and around the water. We both have nostalgic memories of swimming, canoeing and fishing together out in the Swedish countryside. So the water has always been a very formative place for our relationship.

What was life like for you in lockdown knowing you had that one hour of exercise surfing with your cousin?

I didn’t actually see Alex for the first lockdown. He qualified as a paramedic in the spring of 2020 and was immediately thrust into working on the front line, isolating from most of the family as he came into contact with COVID patients on a daily basis. In September while things were eased temporarily, Alex moved into the spare room of my family home in Chichester, where I was living with my Mum and Sister. We started taking trips to the local beaches to swim and surf on his days off. Our trips were always spontaneous as Alex would often have to isolate from the rest of the house if he came into direct contact with COVID patients at work. But during the periods of time when he didn’t, we took full advantage of the freedom we had together. As well as surfing we went on outdoor adventures as often as possible, from walks around the park to full-day hikes. Then the November lockdown hit and those freedoms were reduced again dramatically. We all felt more isolated from our friends and the rest of our families, and work became more difficult for Alex. Our surfing trips became our allocated exercise, which I think we both used to destress and just feel freedom again for an hour every day.

How long have you been photographing your cousin? 

Since I first started taking photos in 2013! So around 8 years. I don’t know whether I’d call him my first creative muse or just the first person who allowed me to photograph them! When I was 16 the thought of photographing anyone I didn’t know personally was terrifying, so I think I gravitated towards photographing Alex and channeling my creative ideas through him.

Close male bonds in a sensitive way represented within photography are far and few between. How important was it for you to show a straight relationship with another man in such a sensitive and comfortable way?

I think that kind of relationship is important to represent in the same way that it’s important to me on a personal level, and the sensitivity comes from my closeness to the person I’m representing. After photographing someone for that length of time you break down barriers that might have previously influenced the sensitivity or honesty of how that person might present themselves to the camera, so it’s not something I consciously think about too much anymore. Though I would try to avoid hyper-masculine stereotypes because they just wouldn’t be truthful.

The time in the water looks like such an important time for both of you, looking back at the weird time that was 2020. What are your thoughts of the time you were able to spend together?

Having Alex move in felt like living with a best friend at a time when I had been isolated from most of my friends for so long. It was a time where each of us was dealing with our own individual stresses, as well as some shared ones. The time we spent together outdoors was a time where we could forget about most of those stresses. Being in the water was like existing in a reality outside of those things.

Is promoting a healthy and close heterosexual male relationship something that's important to you outside of photography?

Definitely, my close male friendships are some of the most important and emotionally supportive connections I have in my life. I think it’s important for men to have relationships that allow expression of individual masculinity in a healthy and non-toxic way, but also allow space for emotional vulnerability and openness.

Alex comes up a lot in your photography. What draws you to wanting to document him?

Alex and I are really similar in a lot of ways and I think those similarities possibly drive a lot of my interest in wanting to photograph him. He’s two years younger than me and I’ve always found it interesting watching him grow up and go through the life experiences I went through just before him. I pretty much see Alex as my brother, which is a connection I don’t have with anyone else, and that familial bond drives a lot of my motivation to photograph him.