Inspired by several famous male gaze paintings and feminist art — painted with reverence, not voyeurism — this project begins with a question: what does it mean to be vulnerable or strong? How many times do we change during this life? How to make it work with a contemporary rhythm? Do we have to? Changing places, spaces, faces, skin, friends, wardrobes, travelling, feeding, exploring, surviving, beating, surrounded by people in our heads and outdoors, but ultimately always alone.
Today, in the shared spaces of a London gym, I witness modern echoes of this exposure — women in flux, stripping off layers amid steam and mirrors. Some do it with ease, while others do it with apprehension. Some display their bodies like quiet celebrations. Others shrink from the gaze, even when surrounded by other women.
But beneath the surface of confidence or a curated appearance, the same ancient tensions persist. Between pride and pressure. Between natural and performative. Between autonomy and objectification. The body is still never neutral.
The modern body, though sculpted and self-maintained, still carries old questions:
Am I too much? Am I enough?
Is this body mine, or is it always for someone else to define?
Behind the curated exteriors lie deeper complexities: the body that requires work but offers no guaranteed happiness in return; the body praised for fitting the mould, but still not at peace; the body taught to hide or to perform, depending on upbringing, culture, and trauma.
In this visual story, I explore the layered vulnerability of being undressed in a public yet intimate space — a place that seems safe but is never entirely free from scrutiny. It is about the female body as a site of power, beauty, labour, exposure, violence, control, and politics. It is never just a body.
Who decides how it should look? Who owns it — the woman or the world around her? These questions are never far from our subconscious, replaying quietly in mirrors, in glances, in silence.
How do I look? How should I look? Who am I doing this for?
This is not a study of appearance, but of perception. Of interior lives seen through exterior shells. Of public intimacy. Of what it means to be "free" when you are constantly being watched.
This work is for every person who has ever stood in front of a mirror and questioned what they see — and who it really belongs to.
Turkina (c) 2025
Director: Turkina @turkinafaso
Choreography: morgaine ann de leonardis @morgishborgg
Talents
Konstantina K @konstan_ka
Elizabeth Steer
Yasmin El Yassini @opheliathanatos
Stefanie Lange @for_detta
Sara Paz @sarapaz_artist
Karen Bucknall
@karen_elizabeth_bucknall_media
Ema Kosac @emakosac
Michelle Hughes @_michelle_hughes
Jane Zakhodiakina @janezakhodiakina
Polina Osipova @polinatammi
Louise Eva @louise.eva_
So’l Jelenke @soldierette
Mitsuki Lee Miyamoto @mitsukileemiyamoto ni
DOP: Irene Gomez-Emilsson @irene.frax
Exec Producer: Turkina @turkinafaso
Exec Producer: Nick Ryan @alreadyfriday
Line Producer: Kate Nadymova @ropwee
Casting: Turkina @turkinafaso Morgaine Ann de Leonardis @morgishborgg Kate Nadymova @ropwee
Set: Penny Mills @pennymillsstudio
Art Assistant: Tilly-Rose Evans @tillyroseevans
Set Builder: William Young @form.workshop.ldn
Gaffer: Rhys Gray @rhys_gray
InMakeup: Azu Matsumori @azusa_matsumori
Makeup Assistant: Yukari Kitano @i_lca
Hair: Yui Ozaki @yuiozakihair
Hair Assistant: Haruka Miyashita @miyashita_haruka33333
Edit: Vera Romanova @vera.v.romanova
Colour: Peta Ridley @ponderosapost_ldn
Graphic Design: Andrei Medvedev @medvedism
Music: Matthew Herbert @matthewherbertmusic
Sound Mix: Andrey Novikov @alius.modi
Special thanks: @markandmarko @urbanizmo @patriciamcmahonagency