Great photographers are often described as having a unique, unmistakable style—a phrase that can feel hyperbolic, yet for a few true originals, it rings entirely true.
One of them is undoubtedly Steven Klein, the artist who seems to plunder the unconscious, giving visual form to our deepest desires. Klein is also a profound interpreter of fashion’s language, as demonstrated by the iconic photo shoots he has created throughout his long career. The book Steven Klein: Vogue, published by Abrams this December, gathers some of his most cinematic and unforgettable images commissioned by Anna Wintour for Vogue US between 2000 and 2019, and produced in collaboration with editors including Phyllis Posnick, Grace Coddington, Camilla Nickerson, and Tonne Goodman.
The subjects of these photographs? Legendary models and contemporary icons. “With Steven Klein, you’ll give him a dress,” writes Wintour, “and he’ll give you a girl with a dress with a robot in a garden. It’s clever, conceptual, and ultimately lyrical.” We spoke with him ahead of the book’s release, scheduled for early December.
Vogue: Some of your boldest works have appeared in the pages of this magazine. What made that possible?
Steven Klein: It all began with Vogue Italia and Franca Sozzani. Franca had a revolutionary instinct and gave me total freedom to explore darker, more provocative themes. That freedom truly opened the door to a different kind of storytelling—one that uses fashion as a vehicle to explore complex ideas such as identity, control, and seduction.
Later, working with Anna Wintour at Vogue US brought a new level of precision and visibility. Anna understood how to harness that same creative advantage and translate it for a global audience. She never asked me to play it safe. The combination of freedom and editorial clarity is rare, and it’s precisely what made some of my boldest work possible.
Looking back on your long collaboration with Vogue, is there a particular shoot that stands out in your memory? What made it unforgettable?
Two shoots come to mind immediately. The first was for Vogue Italia, when I photographed Rihanna for the first time in couture, right at the beginning of her rise (September 2009). We shaved the sides of her head, and she was completely open to transformation and experimentation. That kind of trust is rare. I’m always drawn to people who understand photography as a process and who appreciate that surrender and curiosity are essential to creating something truly memorable.
Another unforgettable moment was the complete issue of L’Uomo Vogue we created with Brad Pitt (May/June 2004). Part of it was shot on the set of Troy, then we spent another three days in Los Angeles. Projects like that don’t really exist anymore—actors rarely dedicate that much time or expose themselves with such vulnerability. But Brad is different; he has a deep respect for photography and for cinematic art. Working with someone who speaks the same visual language makes all the difference.
Your images often emerge from intense creative dialogue. How would you describe your relationship with the stylists you’ve worked with at Vogue, and how have these collaborations shaped the final narrative?
My relationship with Vogue’s stylists has always been defined by deep synergy and mutual respect—it’s like a dance, where each step determines the next. Stylists are fundamental to the creation of my images; they’re not just choosing clothes, they’re co-authors of the visual story. They need to understand how the camera sees—to consider light, texture, and movement—not only to enhance the composition, but to capture the narrative and the character I’m creating, whether it’s one of ethereal vulnerability or bold defiance. These collaborations are always about striving higher; an intense dialogue might begin with a mood board and evolve into unexpected choices that elevate the final story, making it richer and more layered. Without trust and shared vision, the images would lack that electrifying authenticity.
What continues to attract you to fashion—visually or conceptually?
I think it’s the cinematic potential of fashion that continues to fascinate me. Fashion allows me to create characters and build entire narratives within a single frame, as if it were a short film. Each shoot becomes a world of its own, where every detail—the clothing, the lighting, the model’s presence—contributes to the story.
Many of my stories are directly inspired by film. For instance, we created a high-fashion editorial with Lara Stone inspired by The Leopard, directed by Luchino Visconti. Working this way gives me the freedom to explore ideas visually, translating cinematic concepts into still images that feel alive and layered.
In a cultural moment when political correctness often defines the boundaries of creativity, do you feel your artistic freedom has been compromised, or have these constraints inspired you to find new, subtler forms of provocation?
I’ve never thought of my work as being defined by externally imposed limits. Constraints—cultural or otherwise—are just another element in the composition, another opportunity for tension. They can sharpen the imagination rather than diminish it.
For me, artistic freedom doesn’t mean the absence of boundaries; it means finding the space within them to create intensity—to provoke subtly, to whisper rather than shout. The challenge isn’t to question rules for their own sake, but to navigate the invisible currents of perception, to create images that linger, that unsettle, that exist just beyond immediate comprehension. In that sense, limits aren’t restrictions—they’re the invisible architecture of invention.
What have you let go of, over the years, as a photographer?
The idea that photography is synonymous with perfection or control. Early in my career, I sought impeccable compositions, precise lighting, and absolute technical mastery. While those elements are important, I’ve realized that the most compelling images arise from intuition, risk, and the acceptance of the unexpected.
What do you remember most vividly about your collaboration with Franca Sozzani?
I began my career with Vogue Italia, and I will always be deeply grateful for the opportunities and support the magazine gave me. At first, Franca terrified me. She could be incredibly demanding, but that came from her desire to push you further—to make the work sharper, more powerful, more original.
Franca had extraordinary taste and an almost intuitive understanding of photography. She knew how to make Vogue Italia not just the most exciting fashion magazine in the world, but also a platform for true artistic expression. Over the years, we became friends. I often saw her when she was in New York. Franca Sozzani was one of the most beautiful and generous women in fashion—elegant, fearless, and infinitely curious.
What’s the first photograph that comes to mind when you close your eyes?
Brad Pitt’s iconic Blood Head from our L’Uomo Vogue issue.
This conversation, which originally ran in Vogue Italia, has been edited and condensed.
