Tree of Life brings together Vogt’s portraits of anonymous couples kissing with her intimate pictures tracing the trajectory of her relationship with a new lover
“We need propaganda for being in love,” says Lily Vogt. Despite the “general discourse about how everything is going to shit”, the Seattle-born, Amsterdam-based photographer and model has been accumulating portraits which attest to love’s essential power. “Love requires courage. Things are bad, but if you have the courage, you can say, ‘Hold on, I know this feeling because I’ve felt it and, here, this photo is evidence.”’
Her series, Tree of Life, brings together two narrative strands – one of which features anonymous couples kissing in an Amsterdam nightclub. The other thread traces the photographer‘s burgeoning relationship with a new lover. Moving between private and public moments, she presents a range of portraits distilling tenderness, passion and lust – proof if proof be needed that love is still thriving and lovers never lose.
They originally existed as two separate projects until one of Vogt’s tutors suggested merging them. Now, they interact in interesting ways, amplifying the intensity of each other. “I realised, ‘Oh my god, it makes so much sense why I’m inclined to photograph these people kissing.’ It’s because I’m feeling this romance, and I’m feeling intimacy with another person, so the two things were totally feeding each other.”
The depictions of the deeply private story of Vogt falling in love dates back to their initial meeting, when the photographer felt mysteriously compelled to take her lover’s picture. “He had just gone through a break-up, so I didn't have any idea that he and I were even going to go somewhere,” she says. “It’s weird, because I haven't felt the inclination to photograph many of my lovers. He just looked so beautiful sleeping. And then I photographed him literally every day I saw him until this series was shown for the first time.”

Vogt’s kissing pictures were mostly taken at a queer club night, but the series originally began at a wedding, where she was photographing “everyone kissing – gays, straights, friends”, struck by the openness of people. A few of her friends worked in a club in Amsterdam, and Vogt approached the management for permission to open a photo booth in the bathroom. As people queued, she invited them to have their picture taken with a partner. She’s fascinated by the act of kissing. “Kissing is this act of intimacy – or sometimes sexuality – that is allowed in public,” she says. But it also changes currency depending on who is kissing, and where. “A lot of my photos are of gay men, and kissing in public is not always safe for queer people.”
As an artist, Vogt draws inspiration from Nan Goldin. “Her photographs are heart-wrenching, they’re loving, and you feel the love,” she says, becoming emotional, “I could cry just thinking about them.” It’s this visceral quality of Goldin’s pictures, the intention with which they’re made, and the potency of what they communicate that speaks directly to the way Vogt approaches creating images. “She just opened her heart so much, and you get to be inside of it. That’s always what I wanted to do.”
It’s why she’s less interested in conceptual art – she wants to address the emotional dimension of human experience, rather than the intellectual component. Each picture in Tree of Life is accompanied by the artist’s handwritten, diaristic captions; always confessional and exposing, anchoring the photographs in very specific emotional contexts.“The time we're in right now is not a time to be making work that’s heady or separationist or elitist. I believe it's a time to be making work that invites or welcomes everyone; that touches people’s hearts, makes them feel alive. I believe that's just what matters right now.”






