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Reps Journal

Diana Zalucky Explores What An Artist's Space Reveals About Their Creative Process

Photographer and Director Diana Zalucky approaches photography as a way of tuning in and sharing what is not just seen, but felt. Her process is shaped by intuition and reflection. Her ongoing belief that creativity is tied to something deeper than output alone was the impetus behind her series showcasing artist spaces. Created in collaboration with interiors editor and stylist Gena Sigala, the project explores the relationship between an artist and the space they use to create. Stepping into another artist’s space allows Diana to understand their values and rituals, allowing for an honest telling of their story. 

The way a table is cluttered or how the light comes in through the studio windows are all evidence of a work in progress. The images are clues into how someone thinks and eventually creates. Curated Instagram feeds can make aesthetics feel homogenized, but this project reveals studios and spaces that are imperfect and human. 

For Diana, these portraits are also mirrors. By slowing down and truly seeing her subjects in their own environments, she creates images that allow them to recognize the beauty and meaning in what they have built. The project is ongoing and evolving, much like the creative lives it documents.

 

How did this project begin?

It started as a personal project and an organic collaboration with Gena Sigala. She had the idea to create beautiful, editorial-style images of creatives in their homes. We’ve always worked well together, so we began connecting with different artists and photographing them in their spaces. There isn’t a strict end date or fixed structure. It’s growing as we go.

Can you share a few of the artists you’ve photographed for this series?

One recent feature is Mary Jane Bolton of Twenty One Tonnes, whom I photographed in her Los Angeles home and studio. She’s a designer and co-founder of a home and product line created with global artisans, and her work actively supports women, small family workshops, and Indigenous communities through thoughtful, sustainable trade. Being in her space, you can feel how closely her environment aligns with her values and the stories behind what she makes.

I also spent time in the Santa Rita Hills with ceramic sculptor Wesley Anderegg, photographing him in his studio and adobe home. His space is deeply connected to earth and material, and it reflects a life centered on making. There’s a beautiful blur between where he lives and where he creates, and that overlap says a lot about his relationship to his craft.

What draws you to photographing people in their own creative spaces?

I’m interested in how someone’s internal world reflects in their external one. A creative space holds evidence of process, struggle, and joy. I think a lot of people are craving what feels real right now. So much looks the same. I’m inspired by the mess, the works in progress, and the humanity of it all.

You’ve said “the more personal, the more universal.” How does that show up here?

When something is truly personal, people connect to it. Even if their life looks different, they recognize the feeling. These spaces are intimate, and that intimacy creates a bridge. It reminds us we’re more alike than we think.

How do you see this work in relation to today’s culture of sharing and visibility?

We’re in a strange in-between. There’s pressure to be online, but also a desire for privacy and what feels sacred. This project gently asks what we choose to share and what we hold close. Photographing someone in their home is a privilege. It requires trust. 

Sometimes I notice beautiful things about the artist’s process or environment that they might overlook because they’re in it every day. If the images help them appreciate their own journey and work in a new light, that means a lot to me.

How does this connect to your broader philosophy as a photographer?

Photography is how I stay present. It’s how I listen and connect. My work is always about collaboration and mutual benefit. I want the process to feel honest and collective, like we’re building something meaningful together.