Launched in 2015, Elska Magazine is still going strong. For five years now, each issue of this ‘sexy anthropology journal’ takes us to a different city in the world and captures the faces, bodies and voices of local queer men in all their glorious diversity. By now Liam Campbell, the father of Elska, has traveled to many countries and met many queer men from many different backgrounds. GayIceland asked him all about it.
You launched Elska in September 2015. How does it feel like to be celebrating its fifth anniversary?
“Most of all it just feels unbelievable that it’s been five years already. It makes me feel grateful, and also more confident that another five years will be possible too.”
How did it all started?
“Although I did photography at college, it wasn’t until I took a job as cabin crew in 2014 that I really started getting into photography properly. My airline would send us to places I never imagined travelling to, like Kuwait, Kenya, Korea, and I just had to document everything with my camera. I started out doing street photography, but I quickly noticed that I perhaps inadvertently kept capturing hot locals guys, which made me start actually trying to recruit models. I’d be in Japan, for example, and would go on one of the gay apps and just ask if anyone fancied doing a photoshoot. In time I started building a pretty strong portfolio, which got me some commercial photography jobs, and that gave me confidence to do my own thing. That became Elska, a project where I could combine travelling and shooting boys all over the world.”
“…he started teasing me in that typical Australian way of bantering, insisting that it’s ridiculous and unfair of me to be fully clothed while photographing him naked, so he insisted that I get naked too.”
What kept you going?
“Well, this is a hard business, but I believe anyone who is able to at least not lose money by being a full-time artist is lucky. Recently I photographed a guy, who will be in our next issue, and he was wearing a t-shirt that read, ‘You can make a living from art, stop telling kids that you can’t’. I love that! Of course, it’s not a fancy sort of living, but I don’t need that much money. I’m more nourished by all the people who tell me that my work means something to them, that it makes them feel more positive, more seen, more confident.”
How do you pick the cities?
“In general my policy is to let the readers guide where to go. People often write in to say, “If you ever come to my city, I’d love to take part”, and once enough people write in from the same place, I go. That’s how we ended up doing issues in India and the Philippines, for example. But also, I try to make sure the roster of countries we include is diverse, so sometimes I’ll go somewhere like Bangladesh or Colombia, because there are gaps on the globe that I don’t want to ignore. By the way, if you want to request a city, we have a form set up here”
How exactly do you find your models? Is it always an easy task?
“In the beginning we just used apps like Grindr, messaged everyone on the screen with our proposition, and photographed whoever responded. I like the spontaneity of that, but it can also be really unpleasant since a lot of people on there aren’t really looking to engage in anything but sex, and their rejections can be rather bitter. After the first year or so, it got easier. Nowadays we can announce a new city on social media, and sometimes we get enough responses from that to fill the schedule immediately. And if not, we go back to the apps.
Some cities are definitely easier than others, and it’s interesting because the size of the city doesn’t matter. I think the most populous cities I’ve done so far were London and Seoul, and neither of those were very easy. In general I found Northern and Eastern Europe the hardest, and Latin America the easiest. So if you want to extrapolate that Latinx people are the least reserved, I think that would be fair.”
What’s your most memorable experience if you can spot one, either bad or wholesome?
“Oh, it’s so hard to choose, so I’ll go with a recent one. I was in Sydney, and one of the guys wanted to do a beach shoot because it seemed like a very Aussie sort of setting. It turned out that the beach he asked me to meet him at, Obelisk Beach, was a nude one. That’s fine with me, but then he started teasing me in that typical Australian way of bantering, insisting that it’s ridiculous and unfair of me to be fully clothed while photographing him naked, so he insisted that I get naked too. Definitely not an average photoshoot, but one of the most fun for sure. When it was over I put my camera on a rock and we both went for a swim. I really didn’t want to leave.”
Do you feel like your work has evolved throughout the years? How?
“Yes, for sure. In some ways it’s changed in terms of quality. When I started I knew nothing of graphic design, of editing, of running a business at all, and all of these skills improved over time. Looking at the first issues is almost embarrassing for me now, though I prefer to think of them as charming! My photography has changed too. Partly it’s also better in quality, because of experience, but more so its intention is more clear. In the beginning I had too many ideas of what a photospread should look like, based on what I learned in school or saw in other magazines. Over time my attitude changed, which is now about being honest. I try to let nothing deter me – if a setting cramped or badly lit, it doesn’t matter because it’s more important to me to faithfully represent that moment between me and the model than to make something that is technically beautiful.”
You’ve traveled to many countries and met many gay men from many different backgrounds these past years. Despite all the socioeconomic and cultural gaps, have you spotted any recurring theme or pattern in the stories your models shared with you?
“Certain themes come up again and again, like coming out stories, love stories, and sex stories. What’s really interesting is that they come up no matter where you are, but the way they’re told differs slightly. Coming out stories aren’t just the stuff of ‘conservative’ countries, proving that all queer people know what it feels like to be an outcast, to be different. Love too is universal, but in the way that I said that Northern Europe seems a bit reserved, the love stories we’ve had from our Helsinki, Reykjavík and Stockholm issues tended to be more coy; whereas some from our Los Angeles, Guadalajara, and Pittsburgh issues were absolutely filthy!”
Have you noticed a difference in the way gay men all around the world talk about – and perceive themselves in the span of five years?
“I would have thought that five years isn’t enough to really perceive change, but there are a couple specific areas where I think there are some differences. One would be race – there are more people who both notice racism and who are willing to address it. Another would be body positivity, with more and more people admitting how damaging beauty standards and Insta culture can be. I talk to a lot of people who feel un- or under-represented in media, be it because of their race or their body type and age. When I started this five years ago, the vast majority of people who would come forward to take part in Elska were young, white, fit, and probably very well-endowed too, because that’s what they expected I would want. My work has become more diverse over time, and it’s not because I’m specifically trying to find more diversity but rather that different types of people are feeling confident to put themselves out there. I couldn’t be more happy about that, and more hopeful about the world.”
Last time we interviewed you back in June, you had just released Fifteen Icelandic Swimming Pools. What have you been up to since then?
“Since then I’ve released two new issues, both shot pre-Covid in January – Elska Sydney and Elska Kuala Lumpur. I also shot an issue this summer in my home country, the UK, which will be out in December. It’s going to be a very interesting and surprisingly exciting issue, which is very fortunate since I only chose to shoot in the UK because Covid made it too difficult to travel to any other countries.”
“… the love stories we’ve had from our Helsinki, Reykjavík and Stockholm issues tended to be more coy; whereas some from our Los Angeles, Guadalajara, and Pittsburgh issues were absolutely filthy!”
How did Covid impact your work?
“In 2020 I have actually lost four cities, all places I had flights to but which got cancelled due to the virus crisis. They were São Paulo (Brazil), Buenos Aires (Argentina), Beirut (Lebanon) and Milan (Italy). One of them I have rescheduled, but the others I can’t say if I’ll ever return to make Elska issues there. I hope so though.”
What’s next on your bucket list? Why?
“I really don’t know, Covid has disabled my ability to even dream about future travel. I really want to get back to Africa one day though, but it’s a difficult continent for gay life all over. I wouldn’t want to endanger the lives of any men who would choose to be published in Elska, by being publicly outed, even in a small publication like this. Yes, I could more safely do another city in South Africa (I did a Cape Town issue in 2018), but I’d really love to feature another country, Senegal or Ghana perhaps. Honestly, if anyone is out there in Africa reading this and feels confident that Elska could work, get in touch.”
Where can we find the print magazine in Iceland?
“Various branches of Penninn / Eymundsson sell Elska in Iceland, but it’s probably best to call ahead and check what’s available as each branch only gets a small amount of each issue.”