Alex Arauz Interview

Alex Arauz on Seeing the World from Inside the Room

Interview by Hollywood Superstar
Photography by Alex Arauz

Hollywood Superstar Review sits down with Brooklyn- and London-based
photographer and curator Alex Arauz to talk about his work in domestic spaces,
moving image, curating, and his film festival. In this wide-ranging conversation, Arauz
reflects on identity, memory, and the quiet power of observation.

HSR: Alex, your work often explores home, intimacy, and memory.
Why do you keep coming back to domestic spaces?
AA: I think the home is where everything begins and ends. It’s not just a physical space – it’s
emotional, psychological, even spiritual. I grew up surrounded by people who expressed
themselves through objects and habits, not through grand gestures. The things we live with –
light, noise, clutter – they all carry identity. My photographs are ways of trying to see that
clearly, without judging it.

HSR: There’s a real stillness to your images. They’re not flashy; they
feel observed. Is that a deliberate contrast to the visual noise of
social media and fashion imagery?
AA: Definitely. I love images that take their time. We’re surrounded by pictures that move fast
and tell us how to feel, and I’ve never been interested in that. I like photography that breathes
– that invites you to notice something small. The quiet can be political too. Choosing not to
perform, not to over-explain, can be a form of resistance.

HSR: Your show at Waste Store in 2023 – I Wonder How Many
People in This City – was a really introspective take on urban life.
How did you approach that?
AA: Isabel Kang, who curated the show, was thinking about how people coexist in the same
city but live completely different experiences. I wanted to look at that through interiors – what

the city feels like from the inside. You don’t always need to show the skyline; sometimes it’s a
reflection in a mirror or the light on a floor that says more about urban life than a street
photograph ever could.

HSR: And then at Emalin in 2024, you presented OOBE – Out of
Body Experience. The title itself feels psychological.
AA: It was. The piece was shown in a space that looked like someone’s living room – a sofa, a
TV, a couple of speakers. It became a kind of dream loop about watching yourself from
outside. I was thinking about how screens shape our sense of self – how memory gets filtered
through technology. It’s not nostalgia, exactly, but a way of seeing how much mediation sits
between us and our experiences now.

HSR: You’ve also been involved behind the scenes as a curator at
Ginny on Frederick. How does curating relate to your photographic
work?
AA: For me, curating is another kind of storytelling. At Ginny on Frederick, it was about
helping build an environment where artists could show work that didn’t need to fit into
commercial expectations. I love small spaces – they let you be precise, and you can create
emotional connections between works. My own images often deal with those small, intimate
moments, so there’s a natural crossover.

HSR: You’re also a founding member of Waiting Room Film Festival.
How did that start?
AA: It started with a few friends who were frustrated that there weren’t enough platforms for
early or experimental moving-image work. We wanted to make something that didn’t feel like
a “festival” in the traditional sense – more like a conversation. We screened the first films of a
lot of artists who are now doing incredible things, like Josiane M.H. Pozi. Her early work was
this raw, poetic look at daily life – deeply personal. That’s the energy we wanted: honest and
unpolished.

HSR: You move between photography, moving image, and curating.
How do you balance all those roles?

AA: They’re all part of the same impulse – to pay attention. Whether I’m taking a picture or
helping someone else show their work, it’s about noticing the quiet things that define us. The
line between artist and organiser feels less important than the act of creating space, literally or
metaphorically, for people to be seen.

HSR: There’s a lot of talk about authenticity in art and fashion right
now. What does that word mean to you?
AA: Authenticity isn’t about being raw or confessional. It’s about honesty of attention. I think
people can feel when something’s been really looked at – when the artist has slowed down
enough to see what’s actually there. That’s what I try to do, whether it’s a photograph of a
curtain or a film about memory.

HSR: If you had to describe your practice in one sentence, what
would it be?
AA: I’d say it’s about learning to look again – at your surroundings, your history, yourself.

HSR: So what’s next for you?
AA: I’m developing a new body of work that extends some of these ideas into sound and
installation. I want to explore how memory exists not just visually but physically – in the way
spaces hold echoes or silence. And I’ll keep working with other artists through the festival and
smaller projects. Collaboration keeps the work alive for me.

HSR: Last question – if your work were a movie, what kind of movie
would it be?
AA: (laughs) Probably something slow, set mostly indoors, where not much happens – but by
the end, everything feels different.

Follow Alex Arauz on Instagram at @alexarauz and see more of his work at
alexarauz.com.