Berlin’s pulse is a rhythm that Nico Damian Lenz has always moved to. Growing up in a city that dances on the edge of creativity and chaos, Nico found his voice through the lens of a camera. His path wasn't always clear, jumping between the crowded nightlife and quiet moments on his balcony and garden, where he tended to his plants and his thoughts. These moments of solitude ground him, offering a unique point of view to the stories he captures.

In this interview, Nico shares how he peels back the layers of societal norms, using his art to explore and express his sexuality and identity. He talks about the challenging balance of pursuing a creative career alongside personal passions, the liberation found in breaking away from heteronormative narratives, and the importance of creating inclusive spaces within the queer community.

Can you tell us a little about yourself?

I'm Nico, born and raised in Berlin. My life has always been characterized by visual stimuli that I absorb, which led me to study photography with a focus on conception. The job market in the creative industry is highly competitive, so I finance my life with various part-time jobs and focus on personal projects.

I would describe myself as an introvert because I really enjoy time alone, especially when I'm growing all sorts of things in the garden or on my balcony. It grounds me somehow. Nevertheless, I love going out with friends. When I do, I soak up all the experiences, but I'm also the first to leave. Admitting that to myself was hard.

How would you describe yourself as creative? Do you see any links between your creative work, and sexuality contributing to it? And does this creative drive allow for some form of self-reflection and self-discovery for you?

Yes, my work is very much influenced by my sexuality. However, it doesn't run smoothly through all of my projects; some have a strictly documentary character on completely different topics. To find inspiration for my creativity, I follow many photographers and explore their portfolios, observing how they curate, arrange, and select their work. I like to plan each individual picture so that I can implement my thoughts precisely. Focusing more on queer bodies, intimately but outside of sexual contexts, allowed me to break away from dominant heteronormative narratives, especially at the beginning of my photography journey.

How do you use photography as a tool to address, document and challenge societal norms around sexuality and identity?

I photograph the person opposite me as I naturally see them. What can be seen in the photo can also be seen by those who look at it. It is up to the viewer's interpretation whether they see it as a challenge or a desire. Of course, my photos reflect my approach to sexuality and how open I am with it or not. I can't deny that I love it when people talk about my work, as this creates additional context.

What does sexuality mean to you, and how has your understanding of your own sexual and personal identity evolved throughout your life and career as a photographer?

Sexuality already plays a big role in my life. I would describe myself as an open person who wants to live out my desires in an uncomplicated manner, but I've only been able to do that for a while. Social pressure, especially in the white gay community, tends towards monogamy or slut-shaming in certain circles. However, sometimes I really love looking for a Grindr date and exploring my desires with him. It's what I enjoy!

I think if you compare my latest works with those from my beginnings, you will see a tendency towards a form of liberation.

How do you navigate the intersectionality of your sexual identity with other aspects of your identity, such as race, class, ability, or religion?

Within the queer community, I would describe myself as privileged. Growing up in Berlin, a hotspot for the international community, naturally comes with advantages. Growing up gay had fewer challenges here. However, until I listened to myself and followed my own desires, I tended to surround myself with gay people who stayed within their white community. In retrospect, they also had classist and racist views, which is very common in the gay community in Berlin.

I made new friends, and these days I'm happy to surround myself with many international queers who broaden my horizons and help me recognize my privileges. I can only wish the same for my friends from years ago.

What challenges have you faced in expressing your sexual desires and needs, and how have you overcome them?

Growing up in Berlin meant confronting my own sexual preferences at an early age. To this day, I still enjoy casual sex every now and then. However, I try to maintain my sexual partners as long-term relationships, or better yet, friends with benefits. Every time, we try out different things that we like. It should be passionate, with no shame noticeable, and if there is, we can communicate without hesitation. I am now really straightforward with my needs.

But it took me some time to put my needs on the same level as those of my partner. I once thought there was always a better partner in the big city, but being overly selective only hinders one's horizons.

How do you envision a more inclusive and fulfilling sexual culture that embraces diverse sexual identities and expressions, and how can we work towards it?

A great example is the annual queer festival 'Whole,' where music, performance, art, and sex all have a space. So many different subcultures of the queer communities meet and learn to respect each other. We should be radical: There should be more queer-owned spaces because we can develop and find ourselves outside of capitalist exploitation constraints and heteronormative social structures. These structures are precisely what prevent our liberation.

Photography:
Pascal Schrattenecker