A Female Gaze in collaboration with Foto Féminas
A Visual Dialogue — Care
A Visual Dialogue – Care is an international collaborative project involving 14 female photographers from Norway and Latin America. Through visual and textual exchanges in pairs—seven in total—we explore the theme of care from a range of perspectives.
Initiated by the Norwegian artist collective A Female Gaze, in collaboration with the Latin American organization Foto Féminas, the project is an experiment in artistic dialogue and response, where photographers engage with each other’s images and short texts in a visual conversation.
The process began on June 1, 2025, and lasted approximately five weeks. Each photographer produced six works during this period, in close and continuous dialogue with their partner.
Here, we present the images alongside excerpts from the written texts.
Participating photographers:
Elen Sonja Klouman
Monica Lozano
Erle M. Kylllingmark
Ana Leal
Janne Amalie Svit
Luiza Kons
Charlotte Wiig
Valeria Arendar
Monica Vegstein
Carla Yovane
Paulina Tamara Cid
Rochi Leon
Yina Chan
Michelle Arcila
Elen Sonja Klouman and Monica Lozano
«A square of care»
I fell
You patched
Not to erase the fall
Just to hold me
While I heal
— Elen Sonja Klouman
From my womb and my eyes
I witness you and learn
— Monica Lozano
Erle Kyllingmark and Ana Leal
When my mum died in 2008, I found my little milk teeth in a small white box. She had saved them when I was a child. I really could feel her care for me in this gesture, and it has led me to also collect my children's teeth. Even though this for me is about care and emotional memories, what comes from the body like this also can be seen in the light of abject. What has left the body, or what is inside the body, or the dead body is somehow uncomfortable for us.
— Erle Kyllingmark
Flowers are a recurring theme in my own work — I love having them around, and I almost always have fresh ones at home. To me, they embody care in many forms: they’re offered in celebration, shared in sorrow, and they carry the quiet wisdom of cycles — blooming, fading, and blooming again. There’s something deeply symbolic in their presence that I find endlessly moving.
— Ana Leal
Janne Amalie Svit and Luiza Kons
In everyday life, care is often invisible. It happens through routines, boundaries, meals, and emotional support. We tend to see these acts as love, but they can also hold tension — care can protect and support, but it can also limit, control, or even exhaust.
— Janne Amalie Svit
The conversations ranged from the price of a sack of soya or corn to the price of an ox. How many millimetres it rained. Whether my father, who knows where he was, would send money to contribute to the rent. Sometimes the electricity was cut off. Nobody tells you exactly when it will happen. It ends. Then you know.
— Luiza Kons
Monica Vegstein and Carla Yovane
I wonder how we can we create a more attentive world, one that respects and supports every living being, both humans and non-humans. Acknowledging our mutual interdependence and coexistence.
— Monica Vegstein
I also wanted to be part of that blue that binds us together. The ocean was rough and with a lot of movement that day, not calm or serene and it made me think: How much do we embrace chaos in nature?
— Carla Yovane
Charlotte Wiig and Valeria Arendar
Shadows shaped by light carry a kind of mystery and intimacy. They suggest more than they show. In this image they become symbols of presence, connection and perhaps even absence, echoes of love, compassion, or protection that persists without needing to be fully visible.
— Charlotte Wiig
Last Friday, I went to photograph a theatre performance inside a women’s prison in Ciudad Nezahualcóyotl. I often go there to take pictures because, strangely enough, I witness many forms of care in how the women speak to each other, how theycomb each other’s hair, in these quiet, tender gestures.
— Valeria Arendar
Paulina Tamara Cid and Rochi Leon
What I thought was caring was actually just not caring. Being open-minded is care, acceptance is care, hugs are care, patience is care, not pleasing is care
— Paulina Tamara Cid
I asked my parents to send me the most valued object from their room—something they’d save in an emergency. My dad picked his pill organizer, a trio of custom weekly cases held together with glue and rubber bands. He claims his health is a priority... yet this morning, he refused to get the lab tests his doctor ordered.
— Rochi Leon
Yina Chan and Michelle Arcila
Over a longer period of time, they have grown their hair with the intention of donating it to older cancer patients in need of wigs. They gave it to me to hand in. I haven't gotten round to it just yet, as you can see in my picture, I’m still holding it. That is their hair that I am holding. My dads hair is the whitest, and my mum’s hair is a little darker.
— Yina Chan
We promise to be there for one another for better or for worse. I started to think about the future. What does aging together look like?
— Michelle Arcila
