Szymon Stepniak

That’s a big one! I’m going through all the visual references in my head, trying to pick just one. There have been so many images that inspired me over time. But I do have a special attachment to Richard Avedon’s portraits of Allen Ginsberg and Peter Orlovsky; there’s something raw and intimate about them that really stuck with me.
So it wasn’t just a single photo that pulled me in. I was always more drawn to movements, communities, and the broader cultural energy around them — things that weren’t limited to photography but crossed into art, music, fashion, and literature. Warhol’s Factory, the Beat Generation… those kinds of worlds. Especially queer heritage played a big role for me. Looking back, I think it was very tied to my own process of self-discovery.

Right. The “Szy” in my name is rather exotic, and sometimes confusing to people. Recently, someone compared it to Elon Musk’s idea of naming one of his children X Æ A-12 (laughs). But I don’t care, I love how it sounds! And people who are less flexible call me Simon anyway. I’m happy I grew up in Warsaw, had a really beautiful time there, feels great to revisit.
I first moved to Berlin for a scholarship during my MA in Media and Journalism (spec. in photography). I really enjoyed studying, and even though the Covid-19 pandemic hit, it felt great to be in Berlin during that time. After that, it became obvious I would move here again as it was an important place for my self-discovery — following whatever I cared for, going to FKK parks, and also meeting lots of creative people.
My studio and darkroom here feel partly rooted. Also, professionally, I earned opportunities to work on fashion campaigns, which was great to combine with my personal work. A part of me is currently looking for something else, more tender and less individualistic to the Berlin lifestyle. I’ve been spending more time in Paris, and later in the year I will probably go to London too.

I’m very proud of these publications, they’re such strong titles to be part of. In general, I absolutely love working in the studio, using flash, and experimenting with light. There’s something very satisfying about that controlled environment, where I can detach from the everyday and fully immerse myself in the process. I truly value the collaborative aspect of fashion photography; it’s always a creative exchange with great artists. For me, it’s a space where I can express ideas freely. It’s fun, but also strangely calming.

The inspiration for it was an artwork of my friend and flatmate, Izlem. They were working on drawings inspired by Nietzsche’s Theory of the Four Great Errors, exploring how human mistakes are not failures but the foundation of identity and growth. I was a witness in this process: seeing the progress and getting to know the people from their circle — unapologetic, vibrant, brave and fun. Last October, they presented their first exhibition: Birth of an Error, which gave the title of the project.

I understand this ‘error’ as an ephemeral moment of seeking for a solution, a wonder about the result. Referring to the pictures, I think of decay, giving up on something to achieve something else. It is about the people who are not afraid to question and put themselves against the mainstream or norm in a very existential dimension: creatively, professionally, romantically.

It is a finished project. It portrays the community around the specific event of the Birth of an Error exhibition, having a specific timeframe and place. However, I do intend to continue documenting this and other communities. But I’m unsure if the future work will go under the same title.

It was all spontaneous. They are my friends, or friends of my friends, so I was the same to them.

They certainly have similar beliefs in some way, and feelings about the surrounding reality. I would describe it as something between hedonism and decadence, combined with self-acceptance and consent on staying a bit on the outside.

Let me tell the story of Izlem, mentioned before –known online as i.x.i_iii or xwîn– who moved from Istanbul to Berlin five years ago. Since then, they’ve been in constant motion: figuring things out, losing track, coming back again. It’s not a straight line. It never is. In their early Berlin days, they found themselves within the drag community, a deeply loving, protective circle that holds queer migrants from the Middle East. It gave Izlem space to exist and to shift. They even tried drag themself back then — not just as performance, but as a question.
They’ve worked many jobs to survive, but the thread that never breaks is creation: drawing, videography, makeup. Lately, moving images have become their main focus, a way to explore something they can’t always say out loud. The exhibition reflected on how birth comes from death, and how errors shape the self in ways we often don’t understand until later. It was a raw, personal dive into embracing imperfection as a source of power. And then there’s this: Izlem collects roses and crucifixes in the Redrum. Ask them why, and they might just smile or say, “because beauty sometimes bleeds”.

The community gathers around music performer 𝔱𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔭𝔲𝔯𝔭𝔩𝔢 x d4rkmagician (@tir3dpurple), whom I was only briefly familiar with (and more on an anecdotal and personal level). 

Personally, I return often to the bands I grew up with, like the classic Joy Division, but also Lebanon Hanover.

I feel that music and visual aesthetics are really bonded together, and are an important part of finding belonging, participating in a community. Music artists especially voice the mood of the time and the whole range of people's feelings, preserving them in history.

I’m still looking forward to this summer, as I’ve been keeping myself busy. Honestly, I’m sure I’ll still resonate with brat summer. But I must say Doechii’s Alligator Bites Never Heal stays in my head, and Lady Gaga put a spell on me with her Abracadabra song (I especially love the Gesaffelstein mix). So maybe a magical abracadabra summer 2025? But honestly, I wouldn't mind just some tropical, Brazilian summer instead too. Next week I’m going to Whole festival, and I can already sense some Brazilian funk techno fusion. We’ll see!