Paolo Roversi’s name might not be familiar to everyone, but his poetic fashion imagery has quietly shaped the industry for decades. At seventy-eight, the Italian-born, Paris-based photographer continues to redefine fashion portraiture with dreamlike Polaroids that turn flaws into emotion.
Recently celebrated with exhibitions at the Palais Galliera in Paris and the Pace Gallery in New York, Roversi’s work feels both timeless and alive — existing somewhere between painting, memory, and light itself.
The Soul of His Imagery
Roversi began experimenting with photography in the early 1980s, teaching himself through trial, error, and intuition. His collaborations with avant-garde designers such as John Galliano, Yohji Yamamoto, Romeo Gigli, and Rei Kawakubo have defined his painterly approach — soft, romantic, and abstract.
His images are not literal fashion documentation; instead, they evoke feeling. Whether he photographs a model in couture or a nude portrait, his work radiates tenderness and restraint. Like the Victorian portraits of Julia Margaret Cameron, Roversi’s compositions embrace blur and vulnerability, transforming the body into an extension of the soul.
Influences and the Beauty of Accidents
Roversi often credits Man Ray and Erwin Blumenfeld as major inspirations — both known for manipulating images through double exposure, solarization, and tone distortion. Yet Roversi’s style is gentler, grounded in the tactile unpredictability of Polaroid film.
Working almost exclusively with instant film, he welcomes imperfections: light leaks, motion blur, even accidental damage. To him, these “mistakes” are proof of life. His photographs feel unfinished in the best way — alive, trembling, and perpetually in the act of becoming.
The Studio as a Sacred Space
For more than four decades, Roversi has worked in the same Paris studio, which he describes as “an empty stage waiting to be filled.” Occasionally, he ventures outdoors, bringing fabric backdrops to recreate the intimacy of his enclosed workspace — a portable cocoon for spontaneous creation.
“I need to be shut away,” he once said. “In that room, time disappears.” His studio is both laboratory and sanctuary, where stray light and silence shape each frame.
The Magic of the Unexpected
Roversi calls his process a collaboration between control and chaos. “Every step forward, every evolution of my work, was the result of an accident,” he told curator Sylvie Lécallier.
It is precisely this openness to imperfection that defines his genius. Like his influences — Cameron, Blumenfeld, and Penn — Roversi is a romantic who believes that photography should reveal what words cannot. His art reminds us that beauty often hides in the unpredictable moment between shadow and light.
