The first thing you need to know about Jo Fetto is that he’s not a photographer, but a disrupter. Forever walking a fine line between the seditious and the tender, you’ll be hard pushed to find anything more revealing online other than his artistic dabbles (thus, nothing is off-limits for the bloke).

Born in Naples and based in London, he graduated at the London College of Fashion in Fashion Photography: Said to be on an endless quest for the wildest swell, Jo Fetto’s work is for the ultimate carefree spirit. Besides, set as an expressive exploration of his psyche, Fetto’s eclectic influences highly resonate through his recent photo book, Be My Nest, which analyses the confines of intimacy and vulnerability within the queer community of Naples and London, capturing the places that allow us to be intimate and vulnerable, which he naively calls “nests.” The series conjures up moments that act as a tool to investigate and challenge the intersection of individuality, heritage and sexuality. Believe it or not, because of the self-expressive freedom to pursue all avenues of his own pride, it goes without saying Fetto pulls off the complexities of queerness with impressive ease. Through raw and sultry underpinnings, Be My Nest hints at Jo’s evolution as an artist. As shocking as they are evocative, the photographs exude in confidence, delving into all aspects of queer culture whilst aiming to break the chain of conformism which, he deems, “grips the creative continent.”

Citing Nan Goldin, Jack Pierson and contemporary photographers Arthur Tress, Will McBride and Wolfgang Tillmans as key influences, his eclectic taste can be noted throughout the book (think a blithe, boundary-free dreamscape if you ever heard one).

Radical, rebellious and giving us a rundown of his ultimate photo book release, Jo Fetto caught up with Vogue over Zoom to discuss the importance of queerness, homoerotic photography, vulnerability, and why the urge to disrupt society’s stereotypes is pivotal.

Tell us the story behind the photographs published in Be My Nest.

The idea of this book came to mind while I was travelling in India, in summer 2019. I remember that I was going to visit the Taj Mahal on a bus and sat beside me there were a father and his child next to each other. The child was sleeping on his father’s chest; it just felt so natural and sincere, and somewhat recalled my own childhood, particularly for the way I used to sleep on my father’s chest when I was a kid.

From that moment, I was inspired by the intensity of the journey and the experience of travelling in that precise time of my life, as I started questioning the relationship with my family, my houses and my own path, considering I’ve been living abroad since I was 18. I remember wanting to explore the idea of a “nest” since the very beginning: It felt the most appropriated term to describe an inmost sense of security, warmth and refuge that only our intimate relationships can embody. Despite the project of the book started in 2019, it contains photos taken over the last three years of my life. Initially, I used to take pictures of my family in hometown every time I was coming back from London, without any specific intention. I knew there was a special urge to collect certain moments.

You want the representation to be less about yourself and more about the subjects in your work. Who are the people in front of your lens and why do you feel they had to be represented in your latest photo book?

The people who took part in Be My Nest are quite entirely my closest friends and family members, shot in our safe places. Our family house keeps so many symbols and details of our past. Homes, rooms, clubs and surroundings keep traces of our passing. The way we style, both unconsciously and consciously, our tiny rooms in shared accommodations describes who we really are.

I felt the need to celebrate the people who have been surrounding me as they are part and parcel of who I’ve learned to become. Their essence inspires me, regardless of they are aware of it or not. From my boyfriend to my mother, lovers to friends, the book consolidates the moments and instants I felt home and safe. As I primarily work in the fashion sphere, some images with agency models are also present, and shots of “strangers” in the studio abound, too. I consider the studio as a sort of nest, a place where the photographer and the model can communicate on an intimate level and have an empathic exchange, regardless of whether they know each other or not. I like to create an atmosphere in which everyone on set is immersed. I’m still developing this practice, experimenting with ways I arrange my set and music in order to apply my style in multiple spaces. It’s as much calculated as it an unconscious process, which I’m willing to explore further in my work.

The project began in Naples, so what urged you to “move the nest” over to London?

Well, I left Naples when I was 18 to advance my studies in London. I never realised why I wanted to evade from my hometown, but I guess I felt the need to explore myself and understand who I wanted to be. Definitely, my sexuality and experience of being queer in Italy forced this move. London clearly opened up a world to me. As young queer in London, I finally found a place where I could be myself and accept my sexuality. The fact that I could work even in a coffee bar and manage to afford a life and going out was something so fulfilling to me. In Naples, and in Italy in general, the level of unemployment for young adults is frantically high. As a result, this is definitely a reason that limits young kids to establish themselves, build their own independence and believe in their aspirations.

How has the pandemic impacted the realisation of this project?

I’ve been working on this project months ahead of the virus outbreak. I found that what we experienced with COVID-19 and lockdown restrictions was great from a certain point of view. It seemed like my book and the soul of this project could make sense for other people. We all found ourselves alone and together at the same time: It’s been a moment of revelation and understanding of how important the place we live in actually is, and the people who share our space. I believe that in this period, we started to value "the poetics of space” very much, and how it impacts our psyche. If the book started as a personal consideration, COVID-19 proved that we all need a nest in this chaos of life we live in.

You’re known for exploring your work with a poignant approach, which is very much intimate too. How much is intimacy and your work intertwined, in relation to the concept of body politics? 

For the development of Be My Nest, I spent quite a long time researching the way artists, writers and poets tried to represent their own subjectivity and feelings. For the development of this project, it was mandatory to spend time approaching other disciplines, beside photography. By approaching the Romantic arts movement, both in Italy and Europe, Expressionism, especially in Austria with Klimt and Schiele, I came to terms with the importance of unconsciousness and psychology in the production of my images. Indeed, in order to be able to “catch” an emotional momentum, I had to become more sensitive.

As an artist, my vital aim is to move the viewer through my work; thus said, to be intimate is necessary to showcase truthfulness and vulnerability. And to do so, I thought to deal with some “ghosts” in my past and problems I have been ignoring for years, just like the relationship with my father and with Naples in general. Shooting in Naples, exploring the “femminielli” and the street of my hometown was a way to reappropriate my town and overcome a trauma that sparked from running away at such a young age. Moreover, I’m interested in exploring intimacy in my practice, and the way this can be represented and “exported” to people who haven’t necessary experienced my images.

Through analogue photography, darkroom printing and colour study, I interrogate the most successful way to share feelings. In Be My Nest, documentary autobiographical shots are blended with staged-constructed images, with the idea that intimacy and feelings can be performed and reproduced, by approaching symbols, colours and set design. The interest in body politics comes priorly for my own sexuality. As a queer individual, I push for my practice to interrogate and challenge the notions of gender that the society teaches us.

My personality is political. My love relationship is political, and my work aims at shaping the sad narrative of this world. I never liked the idea that because I was queer, I couldn’t interact with straight people and share a friendship, share a relationship with a woman, or that my sexuality should doom the way I interact with other humans. I approach the theme of nudity with the aim to de-sexualise our bodies and the taboos of genitals. Nudity has always been belonging to us and for a really long time it has been repressed and condemned by patriarchy. There is so much to unlearn in order to reappropriate our bodies and free ourselves from a trap we’re not fully aware of.

What does vulnerability mean to you?

I believe being vulnerable mean being sincere. In a relationship, it’s important to show our weakness to build trust. In my opinion, that’s a strong confidence move, purely because we could risk being hurt.

How important is documentary photography to you?

Too much. I cannot describe what comes from this need of documenting and collecting memories. I’m quite a melancholic person, and I love to go back with my mind to recall. I approach documentary photography both as a diary and as a self-analysis tool: I believe that photography portrays our unconsciousness to a certain extent. By reviewing the images we collect, we can understand so much about who we are and what our beliefs.

You also speak about trying to unite unconsciousness and space, seeking for a shelter. On that note, you add a wish to “escape” the pace of daily life. How challenging was it for you to depict all these elements in your work?

It took me years to develop these ideas and style of work that could be understood by others. I always liked arts in general, and I’ve always been intrigued by painting and religious symbolism.

Historically, artists have always been returning to the intersection of stillness and motion, rationality and romanticism. One part of my work is the construction of the image (logic): It’s art direction, the creation of a concept, the styling, the set design and the lights. The other part, however, is the performance (feelings): In order to allow an emphatic exchange, it’s important to the create a comfortable atmosphere for the image maker and the subject, like the use of music on set, the choice and the tone of voice while guiding models, all to create a state of trance in which the subjects can free themselves, be vulnerable and real.

Could you argue that your self-discovery process began from the moment you shot this series?

I guess my self-discovery process started in the moment I realised that to be distinctive, have a style and be considered as an artist, I had to be myself.

Therefore, photography became a tool to understand who I was: Why were my friends often the subjects? Why were they portrayed so classically? Why is there always so much religion in my images? All these elements were just revealing my identity and heritage.

Do the shots relate to anything specific in your life?

The shots, as the book in its entirety, are an acknowledgment of myself and my heritage. They relate to the journey of acceptance I experienced when I fell in love with my partner. I went through the “skeletons in my closet”, and I had to overcome them in order to be able to experience my relationship at its best. I guess it’s a mandatory moment for every relationship. Or at least, for mine it was.

What would you like to say to someone reading this?

I wish you are grateful for the people who love you. Love has not to be given for granted.

As observed, you have a strong interest in identity, subverting the archetypes of the queer gaze and queer expression. What inspires you to create your images?

I’m inspired by the everyday life in this world and the struggle me and others go through in a heteronormative society. As a photographer I questioned my gaze and the way I place myself among other artists. Despite being inspired by homoerotic photography of the last century, I don’t see myself in making art just for a male public. I believe the conversations of LGBTQ+ rights have been dominated for long time by cis men. If you say Gay, you image two boys kissing, and I believe there is an urge to be more inclusive. That’s why I prefer to use the term queer.

I want to embrace my community on a wider scale and bring forward a plethora of faces within the queer community, like my lesbian, trans, and nonbinary siblings. I am motivated to change the world and support other individuals. They say, “queer people anywhere are responsible for queer people everywhere.” It couldn’t be more accurate.

With my images I aim to move, educate and challenge the viewer on what we have been taught, leaving society with a challenge: Dismantle the idea of virility and what it means being a “man”, and breaking down stereotypes that say queer people cannot love, are perverse, that eroticism belongs only to a certain body type and so on.

What does identity mean to you?

I reckon identity is an acknowledgement and an expression of ourselves. Our identity is strongly influenced by our childhood, heritage and sexuality, whether one likes it or not. It’s what we perceive ourselves to be, and fashion plays a very interesting role in defining who we are. I love fashion for its dualistic role: we are what we wear, but, additionally, we can choose what to wear and perform who we want to be.

How about community?

Community to me means legacy. I’m inspired by my queer ancestors and their art, struggles and efforts that allowed me to be what I want to be in this present. Community is something that inhabits queerness. Because we are underrepresented and marginalised, community is our chosen family; our support in a world that denies our existence.

What have you learned about yourself and your work from this project? 

Definitely I came out from it more confident in my ideas and style. I learned to trust myself, dare and to be carefree. Even if sometimes I felt misunderstood, it’s part of my mission to understand ways I could communicate and share my art. I’ve learned the importance of loving and how this impacts our lives. As Judy Blame famously said “the most radical thing you can do today is care for yourself and other people!” And in him, I believe.

Be My Nest is self-published by Jo Fetto and is available to order now.