
MARIA ELISA FERRARIS
Thank you for being here with us for this interview, Maria Elisa. Could you share a little about yourself and how you began your journey in photography?
I was born in Turin in 1995. I developed a passion for photography around the age of 14 when I enjoyed putting together albums with old photos of family and friends. This sparked a desire to create my own photographs for those albums, and gradually, I began to get the hang of it, capturing everything, especially the people and things close to me. By the time I was 18, I realized that I wanted to pursue photography more seriously.
Could you share if you have any formal education in photography, including any workshops you have attended?
My educational journey has been quite long, gradual, and diverse. I started as a self-taught individual, and after graduating high school, I attended the Photography and Visual Communication Design course at IED in Turin. During this time, I also worked alongside local photographers to gain hands-on experience. Later, I participated in the Visual Storytelling Masterclass at Camera and ICP, and that same summer (2017), I joined Cesura as an assistant for about three years. My time at Cesura was undoubtedly the most significant and formative part of my journey; I was involved in research, production, post-production, printing, editorial distribution, and communication, essentially supporting the work of professional photographers in every aspect.

In recent years, I’ve also had the opportunity to participate in the Futuri Prossimi program with Jest and Flux Lab, and thanks to a scholarship, I attended a workshop with Magnum Education.
I’d like to emphasize that I have consistently worked alongside and assisted more experienced photographers from various fields, as I believe that direct learning in the field is a crucial constant in my development.
How would you characterize your approach to photography?
I believe it begins with a well-structured, documentary style and gradually shifts towards a more evocative, poetic, and research-driven approach.
Do you primarily work with analog, digital, or both types of photography? I would appreciate it if you could share more about your development process, providing as much detail as possible.
I shoot with both mediums, although I keep my analog work mostly private, while digital photography takes the lead, especially for my personal projects. My development process is closely tied to this approach. I’m not sure if I’m answering the question correctly, but after I take photos, I quickly edit the files using Photo Mechanic, and then I focus on developing the selected images with Camera Raw and Photoshop. Depending on how I plan to use the images, this stage can be really quick or take a bit longer. For instance, when preparing files for an exhibition, I open the selected RAW images to ensure they have a soft look with as much detail as possible, while still heading in the interpretive direction I want. Once I’m in Photoshop, I work in steps, adjusting various parts of the image as I go, bouncing back and forth between the monitor and printed paper until I reach the final result. The lab at Cesura plays a crucial role in this process.
Can you recall your first experience with photography? What about the very first photos you captured?
Absolutely not! However, I clearly remember the moment I fell in love with photography. It happened after I bought my first bridge camera while on vacation with my parents. I started photographing clouds, cacti, and the sea, and it felt like those things looked even more beautiful through the lens, almost as if they were speaking to me more than in real life. I still have many printed photos of my friends from my teenage years. Among the photos I cherish the most are definitely those I took during the evening theater workshop organized by a teacher at my high school. It was quite an experimental environment where I could explore movement and expression.



Above and below: a selection from Dove Ricordi
What significance does photography hold for you?
That’s quite a complex question, and I think it might take a lifetime to answer! I’ll give it a shot, without claiming to be exhaustive.
For me, photography is deeply connected to my inner world. It’s a way for me to experience both the world around me and myself in a profound, visceral manner. It constantly raises questions for me and has driven some of the life choices that define who I am, like my moves, schools, many of my friends, and how I spend my time. It nudges me a bit beyond where my reserved nature would typically lead, and sometimes it serves as an excuse to explore something or someone that intrigues me, which I might not normally have the courage to confront.
It continually sharpens my perspective, and in turn, my thoughts and experiences. I also appreciate the endless possibilities for dialogue that photography offers. For instance, taking the same group of images and changing elements like order, format, or context can refresh the narrative, making it unique each time. I enjoy the illusion and intrigue it creates with its partiality, its semblance of reality, and its power to bear witness and leave a mark. When I look at a (good) photograph, my imagination sparks and takes me on a journey beyond the frame.
Could you please share the story behind your body of work titled “Dove ricordi”? What were your original intentions or goals for this project? Additionally, could you describe the processes you employed during its creation?

Dove Ricordi emerged as part of the Photobuster 2025 project, generously funded by Strategia Fotografia. For over a decade, Photobuster has been a residency initiative crafted by CESURA, dedicated to documenting both Italian and international regions. A collective of photographers immerses themselves in a specific area for a designated period, capturing images that are later curated and showcased through installations, exhibitions, and discussions about the locale at the conclusion of the residency. In my case, I had the pleasure of focusing on Sardinia alongside three talented colleagues.
Before embarking on this journey, I equipped myself by diving into various books about the region. What truly captivated me was the territory’s ancient essence, defined by the presence—or absence—of water and the omnipresence of stone. My goal was to investigate how these two elements continue to shape and influence the collective identity of the area. Through my readings, I pinpointed several locations I was eager to explore, but once I arrived, I stumbled upon a vast and intricate world. Thus, I began a staged journey across Sardinia, visiting the sites I had researched. Often, these visits led to unexpected encounters, guiding me to new destinations and individuals connected to my inquiry.
While I always started with a guide, I made sure to leave plenty of space for spontaneity and genuine interactions. Engaging with the local community opened doors to deeper insights that mere study could not provide. After three weeks of dedicated work, I conducted an initial editing session on-site. Later, I took my time to review all the photographs, further refining my research. I aimed to attune myself to what the images conveyed, embracing the idea of photography as a moment of pause and reflection, rooted in these two essential elements.
Could you please share some insights about your series, Aqua?
“Aqua” is a lyrical journey that delves into the significance of water, represented through photographs of giant waves. It serves as a metaphor for the unconscious and human identity. Water transcends its physical form, becoming a rich inner landscape that enhances our awareness of our existence in the world. This internal exploration emerged from my desire to connect more deeply with the “images” and underlying structures of the unconscious, giving them the space they deserve. The process reflects a wish to simplify and explore my own inner world and aesthetic thoughts more profoundly. Through this research, I’ve transformed my relationship with the outside world, allowing me to perceive it as “form”—a vision or fleeting image that is almost fragmented yet intensely focused. Like a wave, it embodies constant change, and while we may not fully understand its meaning, history, or absolute value, we can appreciate its powerful and condensed essence.

Your work often incorporates elements of nature. How do you perceive nature in your art—do you view it as a setting, a character, or perhaps a reflection of our inner emotions?
All three. It really depends on the conversation and context in which the images are created and appreciated. I definitely notice its presence.
Could you please share your approach as an emerging artist when it comes to submitting your work to open calls, galleries, and editors?
This can be a tough topic for me; I really struggle with presenting my work. To be honest, I choose open calls very selectively and focus on those I believe will value my work. I take a look at their past selections and consider what they can provide for my current stage. I also think about the jury composition to see if I’m keen on showcasing my work. I adjust my core texts based on the context I’m working with, and I always make sure to review the presentation edits carefully.
Your body of work, Aqua, has been published as a photobook by Cesura. Would you be willing to share your experience with the publishing process, including any challenges you encountered?
Aqua is my first book, and I learned so much throughout the process! The biggest challenge was clearly defining the message I wanted to share, which made editing quite a tough experience. The book is designed for both individual images and as a collection, so I had to sift through an archive of 22,000 images taken at various times and places. Selecting just 34 and arranging them was complex; I had to consider not only aesthetic connections but also the rhythm and the meaning of the sequence.
Writing the text was another challenge. I didn’t want to include critical essays or external voices that might overshadow the viewer’s imagination, which is what I aimed to evoke. Initially, I was quite nervous about opening the book with a poem I had kept private until then.
Post-production and preparing the files for offset printing also took a significant amount of time. I wanted every detail of the images to be carefully curated, sometimes in a sculptural way, and other times just focusing on subtle nuances.



Above and below: a selection from Aqua
However, I think the most challenging part is what comes after the book is published. Once it’s out in the world, it’s no longer just mine, and sharing it with the public can be daunting. Promoting it and bringing it to life requires skills that aren’t always easy to master. Nonetheless, publishing is a crucial moment because it involves making definitive choices while also providing a wonderful opportunity for the completeness and sharing of my work.
Do you develop your own sequences, or do you collaborate with an editor or curator for assistance?
I usually start by making a wide selection of my photos, and then I ask my colleagues for help to narrow them down a bit. However, I always handle the final sequencing myself because I believe a sequence tells a story—a message you want to convey. After that, I review everything and seek feedback on any minor adjustments.
What guidance would you offer to aspiring photographers or artists who are looking to begin their journey in photography?
Here are a few thoughts I’d like to share with myself:
Create and produce as much as you can, and do it consistently. Dive into the history of photography and art—check out plenty of photo books and exhibitions. It’s important to study and not just rely on social media for enjoying images and works. Begin with simpler projects and gradually take on more challenging ones. Collaborate with professionals to learn as much as you can from them. Most importantly, trust your intuition and carve out your own unique path. Enjoy the process!
It has been a pleasure to have the opportunity to interview you, Maria Elisa.
My pleasure. Thank you!
All Images © Maria Elisa Ferraris




