Amandine Kuhlmann

Temple Magazine

You’ve worked in fashion’s magazines for some time — what was your role back then?

Amandine Kuhlmann

I was working as a photographer. That’s how it started. I mainly worked in editorial, including women’s magazines, and I also shot a few fashion editorials. But I’ve moved away from that now. At the time, I was also working a lot with Libération, and with Néon magazine.

Temple Magazine

Were those two things — editorial and fashion — something you did before developing your more personal practice? Or did it all evolve at the same time?

Amandine Kuhlmann

My personal work came afterward — it developed gradually over the years. But it’s really become more defined recently. It’s taken on a more conceptual, performative direction. I put myself into the work a lot more now, especially since attending ECAL. I graduated from there in 2023 — I did a Master’s in Photography from 2021 to 2023 — and that really gave me space to experiment. And there was the COVID period — which hit editorial work hard — and I was feeling the urge to explore new directions. It gave me the opportunity to try out new territory.

Temple Magazine

So, it was really about experimenting.

Amandine Kuhlmann

Yes, and especially stepping away from pure, traditional photography, because I wanted to explore other mediums — especially more digital ones. And I ended up working a lot around social media, which was quite intense. There’s a lot of self-staging in my work now. I had already done that before — I used myself as a kind of guinea pig to test lighting or framing — but now I decided to take it further.

Temple Magazine

So in a way, it’s a kind of counterpoint to your fashion photography days. You also mentioned at the opening that you hired a coach to help with social media engagement. How did that go? Is it something you're still pursuing?

Amandine Kuhlmann

No, in the end I only did one or two sessions, because I quickly realized that it had its limits — especially for a project like this, where coaching didn’t really apply.

Temple Magazine

Because he was too literal?

Amandine Kuhlmann

Yes, but I also took him literally — meaning I used all the advice he gave me, and you can actually hear it in the video installation. He’s the only male voice in the whole piece. He gives all the “rules” — they sound almost like commandments or injunctions. I ended up using his voice as a kind of metaphorical stand-in for the patriarchy. These rules are supposedly for everyone on social media, but some of them apply even more strongly to women — we feel a much greater pressure about our image.

Temple Magazine

So would you say the conversation with him helped shape the video? Or was it more about creating a stereotypical base for your concept?

Amandine Kuhlmann

It definitely helped me structure the video in chapters. The video itself feels chaotic — but that was intentional, because it’s meant to reflect a “perfect” feed: overstimulating, disorienting, full of inspiration but hard to follow. Working with a coach gave me a framework. My initial goal was to go viral in a month, which of course didn’t happen, but I liked the absurdity of hiring someone with that aim in mind. We all know that’s not how it works.

It always comes down to luck — I mean, even though we know there's a lot of work involved, whether it’s influencers or content creators, even those who are super consistent and committed to what they do, you never really know when it’s going to pay off.

It’s also a metaphor for the long, uncertain process of establishing yourself in the art world. — it’s a gamble. You invest time, energy, and often money into something without any guarantee that it will ever pay off. And it doesn’t just depend on your talent or the strength of your narrative — it’s often your perseverance that might, eventually, bring you to the one person willing to give you an opportunity.

Even though the artist’s status is often seen as more elite or intellectually driven than that of the influencer, I personally find the underlying structure to be strikingly similar. These are careers that appear aspirational and desirable on the surface, but behind the polish, there’s a lot of posturing, self-staging, and a blurred line between authenticity and performance.

Temple Magazine

Do digital tools and AI — like deepfake technology or automated editing — play a role in your creative process?

Amandine Kuhlmann

Technically deepfakes are a form of AI. In image retouching, there’s AI involved, these days it’s even integrated into Photoshop. So yes, I do use it — but for me, it’s more of a tool, not the core of the project. There’s been such a huge craze around it, especially since DALL·E came out. I’ve seen it used in every way possible by people around me, and it evolves so fast that a project can become outdated really quickly. Of course, it’s important to reflect the moment we’re in — and AI can play a role in that — but I don’t want it to be the main subject of my work. It’s something complementary.

Temple Magazine

For example what you showed at the Maison Européenne de la Photographe with Cash Me Online — there’s often this feeling of discomfort as a viewer. Do you often get reactions of confusion or people taking it all at face value, missing the irony completely? Or do you actually find it interesting when someone completely misreads your intent?

Amandine Kuhlmann

That does happen. Personally, I feed off that — it’s part of the “cringe” aspect of my work. Even in terms of inspiration, when it comes to cinema for instance, I’ve always loved films that make me extremely uncomfortable. One that really stuck with me was I’m Sick of Myself, and also Triangle of Sadness — those films keep you on edge the whole time, you’re literally grinding your teeth. That’s what I’m drawn to, even algorithmically. I like content that triggers a reaction. It’s a way of working I really enjoy.
It’s no longer just about wanting to shock, that used to be the goal. Now, I think this sense of unease, this underlying tension in visual art is much more present. Creating discomfort is more subtle, more insidious than shock which is actually kind of easy.

In terms of feedback, some videos from the project were reposted on other Instagram accounts, and obviously, without context, the meaning gets totally lost. But that’s also part of the point, it’s the magic of the internet. You create something, you put it out there, and then it lives its own life. People can interpret it however they want. Of course, you’re also exposed to nasty comments, sometimes outright hateful or misogynistic ones and that was expected. But that’s part of the project: it has to stand on its own. When it was shown at the MEP, there was an exhibition text, as there always is. But ultimately, if someone doesn’t want to engage with the meaning, that’s their choice and that says something in itself.

Temple Magazine

Right, especially since your work is clearly designed and optimized for social media that opens you up to even more raw, literal feedback, like a kind of digital Wild West.

Amandine Kuhlmann

It’s a total purge.

Temple Magazine

About that installation — you mentioned it earlier, but how do you want to develop it? Do you want it to travel?

Amandine Kuhlmann

This is actually the second time it’s being shown, and I can’t say too much yet, but there might be another presentation coming up soon. That said, I’ve already started expanding on the project a bit, there’s this whole idea of the meme, or repetition as a leit motiv, which I love. I’m drawn to repetition of gestures, especially as it relates to the loops and endless scroll of social media.

But I’m also starting to think about new formats and ways of working. Because as a woman and an artist, it can be really hard to break out of certain archetypes. Even recently, when I got commissioned for something editorial, there was this expectation that I’d appear again in a bikini, performing that same persona. For now, it’s still fun and aligned with what I’m doing but there’s definitely that fear: if I want to break out of this character I’ve created, will people allow that shift? It’s fake, after all — it’s a character — so I should also have the freedom to leave it behind.

Temple Magazine

And that live performative side — have you had the chance to develop that in the right contexts? Is it something you’re interested in?

Amandine Kuhlmann

Yes, I recently got to experiment with actual live performance, as in physical, real-time performance. Before that, the performative element was always mediated through photo or video — more like documentation or staged performance.

But I got to try live performance once, at Images Vevey Biennal this past September. It was super intense — I’d never done anything like it. I had to perform four one-hour sessions across two days, so four hours total — which was a big leap for me. Basically I was embodying an NPC — a non-playable character. It was inspired by something that went viral, though now it feels like forever ago, two years already. It was based on PinkyDoll, she was originally an OnlyFans model among other things, and she blew up on TikTok doing lives where every time someone tipped her, she’d respond with a reaction. So there was a specific reaction tied to each amount, and she’d repeat those responses over and over like a video game character.

Temple Magazine

With repetitive actions, right.

Amandine Kuhlmann

Exactly. And for this performance, the idea was to recreate that physically. I asked the audience to pay me — there was a donation box — and depending on how much they gave, a different song would play, and I’d perform a choreographed dance specific to that amount.

Temple Magazine

Ok, it doesn’t work as a five-minute thing. Now I see where the intensity comes in.

Amandine Kuhlmann

It was interactive, and I really love working with interactivity. Even in Cash Me Online, the goal was to provoke some kind of response — any kind. That’s the point: the work should trigger something. But interactivity in performance is tricky, because you depend entirely on how people engage.

At times, I’d end up inactive for a whole hour — still in character as an NPC, with my hands floating slightly in the air — and that waiting became part of the performance. That’s where the “cringe” tension comes back again.

Temple Magazine

So for you, this performative aspect is also about creating these playful systems that invite interaction.

Amandine Kuhlmann

Exactly — inviting interaction. For now that’s how it’s played out, but I could definitely imagine creating a performance that still involves some layer of interaction, but not necessarily direct or obvious — maybe more symbolic or passive.